


First Contact

by SamJoinedtheReconCorps



Series: Avengers: Redemption [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Depression, Don't read if you haven't seen Endgame, Drowning, F/M, Fighting, Goddess Bast - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, Major spoiler, Nightmares, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker has PTSD, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Endgame, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reunions, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Visions in dreams, Vormir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamJoinedtheReconCorps/pseuds/SamJoinedtheReconCorps
Summary: While the war may be over, the loss from it was felt deeply and widely, an open wound that refuses to heal. It haunts the living, to think of the dead, but when the dead can't rest there's nothing left to do but make contact and find out what needs to be done.Or, my attempt at fixing the heartbreaking shitshow that was Endgame. The Fix-It Fic that I need to heal my broken soul.





	1. Man in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> So, you watched Avengers: Endgame
> 
> That shit hurted, and its gonna hurt here for a bit but then I'm going to make it right. I'll be updating this periodically, but i'm not giving myself strict deadlines, but hopefully at least once a month
> 
> Please, please don't read this if you haven't seen Endgame, as there will be spoilers, so you have been warned
> 
> Enjoy! or well, sob, then enjoy!

“ _ If I tell you, it won’t happen _ .”

Stephen was holding up one finger, and Tony felt his blood run cold as he realized what he had to do. But without hesitation, he charged the Mad Titan.

It was brief, quick, a scrabble just to get close to Thanos, but it was all Tony needed to get what he needed to end it all.

“I am Iron Man,” Tony said, the line that had started it all, now here to end it. Then he snapped his fingers.

There was a brilliant flash, and Tony felt like he was on fire. There was a searing pain rushing up his arm from the gauntlet, extending past his shoulder into his torso and racing up his neck and across the right side of his face. It hurt more than anything that Tony had ever gone through before, a white hot pain that was leeching the life out of him.

Tony didn’t care though. He was more than happy to go through it just to see Thanos turn to ash, his god-like aspirations reduced to dust. He was more than happy to go after seeing that.

He stumbled as his knees buckled, and he dropped back, leaning against some of the rubble. The tension drained out of him, leaving Tony feeling miraculously calm for once in his life, his fears and anxieties about Thanos finally dead now that the titan was no more.

Suddenly Rhodey was there, and then Peter. Tony could barely make out what they said, but he did catch Peter say that they had won.

“Mr. Stark, we won.” Peter’s voice broke, it broke as he was pulled away, “Don’t go, Tony.”

Tony wanted to reach out, to hold his boy, his bright-eyed, overly eager boy. He wished he’d hugged him more often. He wished he could have the strength to tell Peter he loved him.

And then Pepper was there, right in front of him. She wasn’t breaking apart like Peter, but she was breaking. It was in her eyes. She kept herself steady though. She’d always been so strong.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispered, putting her hand to his chest. “You can rest now.”

With the last bit of strength he had, he put his hand over hers. He thought of how terrified he’d been when everyone disappeared on Titan, that she had vanished too. He thought of how, despite his fears of death, there was a part of him that had embraced it on that ship when it was just him and Nebula out in space, all because it was a chance to be with her again. He thought of how when he came back and saw her it had sent such a strong wave of relief over him that it had almost knocked him out. He thought of how he’d teasingly scolded her that he  _ had _ been right about them expecting. He thought of how the happiest day of his life was the day Morgan came into the world.

Morgan. Their little ball of sunshine. She was so smart and curious and so ready to explore every aspect of life - and now she was going to have one. A good, long life. Even though it hurt him to leave her, he knew she would lead a happier, safer life now.

It hit him like a freight train. He was dying. He was leaving the three biggest loves of his life. They were safe, because of his sacrifice.

He only wished he could tell them he loved them, that he could hug them, one last time.

Tony exhaled slowly, his hand still over Pepper’s, with Pepper right in front of him, his son not far behind her, and the promise of a safer future for his daughter.

The light from his reactor faded as his hand slipped from Pepper’s grasp.

* * *

 

Steve woke up in a cold sweat beside Peggy. It had been the same nightmare again. Finding himself underwater and trying to break the surface, knowing he had to break the surface, and seeing someone laying on the water above him, just floating there. But no matter how hard he swam, he never made it close enough to be able to see who it was, let alone reach them. It was just pure desperation that pushed him to try and get through the water, to save himself and whoever was there. But every single time, he jolted awake feeling like he was drowning.

His put a hand to his chest to try to calm his breathing, to keep himself quiet and not wake her up. She barely stirred, pulling the blanket over herself a little tighter. Steve let out a small sigh, glad that she was still sleeping soundly.

He quietly pulled himself out of bed and left the room, making his way to the kitchen. Even though the thought of drinking water wasn’t appealing at all to him, Steve knew that just having a little to drink might help him clear his head.

Steve poured out a glass of water and drank it slowly, making sure that he kept breathing through his nose. He didn’t want to have a panic attack over simply drinking water.

He set the glass in the sink, deciding to just leave it there until morning so that the noise didn’t wake Peggy. Steve got out of the kitchen, stepping into the living room to move towards the stairs that would take him up to where his bedroom with Peggy was.

It’d been three months since he’d come to back to stay, and while he was enjoying every second that he’d had with Peggy, he still found himself feeling a little hollow when he was alone. Moments like this, especially after a nightmare, made him feel unmoored, untethered, on the cusp of stability and breakdown. He was still haunted by everything that had happened in his past five years, haunted by the people they took so long to save, and by those that they hadn’t been able to save in the end.

His hand was still at his chest, and it was then that he realized he had been holding the necklace Pepper had given him. It was a simple chain, with a tiny vial that had a handful of the nano-particles that had been on Tony’s suit.

A reminder of a friend who cared for you, no matter what had happened, Pepper had told him as she’d pressed it into his hand. So that he can keep him close, always.

“As if I’d ever forget you,” Steve sighed. He let go, running a hand through his hair as he rubbed his eyes, sleep suddenly descending upon him again. Time to try for another round of sleep. Steve made his way upstairs slowly, walking past the mirror that they kept there - then whipped around. He could have sworn he’d seen something in the mirror beside him, something right out of the corner of his eye.

He blinked once, twice, glanced around suspiciously once more, then shook his head. It was the stress, the guilt, the underlying anxiety all getting to him in the dead of night, preying on him in his loneliest moments. He hadn’t seen anything - it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Even so, he was a little more on edge as he made his way into his room with Peggy, and as he lay down beside her, moving in close to hold her to him, he felt the edge ebb away enough for him to think about what he saw. What he  _ thought _ he saw, he reminded himself.

Because it was impossible, but deep down, he knew who he’d caught a glimpse of. For a split second, on the stairwell of his two story home with Peggy, he could have sworn he saw a man beside him, a shorter man with dark hair, a man whose funeral he’d attended more than three months ago and fifty years in the chronological future.


	2. Girl in the Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker deals with grief and Peter Quill just wants to go the fuck to sleep man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so, just a disclaimer since i forgot to add it to the first chapter: i don't know jack shit about the marvel comics, all I know is from the marvel cinematic universe. soooooo that being said, I'm going to be taking creative liberties in making this shit work , and since this is a fix it fic welllll i mean you'll see as time goes on
> 
> anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! this is about 2k longer than the first chapter, and i'm actually surprised that i was able to pump it out so fast, deadass procrastinated all my homework today, so here you guys go

It’d been about a month since classes had restarted, and three months since everything had gone down. It was weird, to go back to school with essentially just half of midtown high, since the other half was now five years older and technically all graduates (in theory, since almost all of civilization was suspended and everyone just got to trying to help each other survive). Fortunately - or unfortunately since this meant all his friends had been snapped as well - his best friend and the classmates he interacted with the most were also in school again, which made the transition back seem almost normal.

Almost.

“Hey, Peter, wanna come over and hang out at my place after school?” Ned asked as they swapped some of their books from their locker to their backpack in between classes.

Peter shrugged. “I’ll text Aunt May, I’m sure she’ll be cool about it as long as I keep checking in.” A flash of guilt flared up in his chest, the thought of how desperately she must have been looking for him when the Maw’s ship had landed in New York causing a deep ache to thud in his ribcage. He couldn’t bear think about how hard she must have tried to reach him before she, too, faded.

Ned noticed the absent look in Peter’s eyes as he stared into his locker, clearly unseeing what was in front of him. It happened often, these little lapses.

The bell rang.

With the startling, shrill sound of the bell, Peter jumped about five feet in the air, much higher than any normal person could, feeling his heartbeat jackhammer in his ears.

“You okay, dude?” Ned quietly asked, unsure of whether or not to even ask since he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, yeah, just tired,” Peter quickly replied, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “I’ll see you after class?” Peter asked, feeling a creeping pressure building at the back of his throat.

“Mhm, I’ll text my mom that you might be coming over, we can maybe grab some pizza or something on the way home,” Ned suggested, trying to let his best friend off the hook.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Peter quipped, his voice clipped and smile clearly forced.

Ned nodded. He didn’t need to press Peter for anything more than he was willing to give.

“Alright, gotta get to class,” he rushed out. Peter then turned on his heel, slamming his locker and taking off down the hall, heading in the opposite direction of his classroom. He burst into the thankfully empty boy’s restroom, shaking from head to toe as a panic attack clawed at his chest and made his stomach knot. He ran into one of the stalls, feeling the bile rising in his throat and barely making it to his knees before his meager breakfast made a reappearance into the toilet.

The vomit burned his throat as it came up, and it made Peter cry even harder, feel even more pathetic. Here he was, in the grips of a panic attack, throwing his guts up and sobbing in the restroom at school. Here was the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, reduced to a shaking mess, unable to even attempt to put himself back together in the three months since it’d happened.

“Fuck,” he whimpered when the last of the dry heaving ended. He hadn’t thrown up much, but it had definitely emptied out his stomach. He rested his forehead against his arm, feeling how sweaty his skin was. He stayed like that for a few beats of silence as his breathing slowed back to normal, then he stood up, flushed the toilet, and went to the sink to clean himself up.

He turned the water on, letting the coolness run over his fingers. Peter bent his head down so that he didn’t make a mess of water, and quickly splashed some on his face, making sure to clean the bits of throw up and to at least try to hide the puffiness in his eyes. As he was washing up, he looked into the mirror to see how he was looking now. He saw someone behind him.

Peter turned around quickly his heart leaping to his throat. But there was no one. Of course there was no one.

The familiar lump in his throat began to form again, but Peter just swallowed hard. He sniffled. “No,” he said, out loud, just to have the reassurance of hearing his voice. “He wouldn’t want me to keep crying like this.”

He glanced back at the mirror as he walked out, shaking his head, before going to class.

**…**

“Oh, Peter, it's so nice to see you!” Pepper smiled as she opened the front door.

Peter nervously shifted from foot to foot. “Hi, Miss Potts.”

“It’s Mrs. Stark,” Pepper quietly corrected, fingering the small wedding band on her finger. She shook her head sadly. “But you can just call me Pepper, I know how hard this is.”

“Okay, Mrs. - Pepper,” Peter finished, not able to bring himself to say his last name. He didn’t want to start crying and be an inconvenience. “I just wanted to come by and say hi, maybe even get a chance to hang out with Morgan?” Was that weird? Asking to hang out with a preschooler? His brain immediately seized with panic that he’d come off as a total creep and that Pepper would shut the door in his face.

Pepper could read Peter like the book, the panic evident on his face. “That sounds wonderful, Peter. I’m sure Morgan would be happy to see you again, especially since when she met you it was…” she trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Would you like to come inside?”

“Of course, thank you, Mrs. Pepper,” Peter said as he stepped inside, then immediately felt like running out.

One of his helmets sat on the couch, as well as a few pictures hanging on the wall, his smiling face looking out at Peter. He recognized a pair of his sunglasses sitting on the coffee table.

“I-I,” Peter began, taking a couple of steps back, before he heard a noise up the stairs and he turned, seeing a tiny little girl making her way down.

“Mommy, who’s this?” she asked, looking past Peter at Pepper.

“Morgan, this is Peter Parker,” Pepper answered, coming to stand behind Peter and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “He came to visit us, said he wanted to say hi.”

The little girl’s eyes grew in excitement as she raced down the last few steps, coming to stand right in front of Peter, suddenly a little unsure of what to do.

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and crouched down to be at her eye level. “I, um, I worked with your dad.”

She looked past Peter again, up at Pepper and said, “Dad was right, he is really silly.” Then, meeting Peter’s eyes, she shook her head, her nose scrunching up. “Dad didn’t say that he worked with you.”

“Oh,” Peter said quietly, feeling his heart sink in his chest. He was about to stand up and excuse himself before he burst into tears when Morgan threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

“Dad said you were like his son! So that makes you like my big brother!” She pulled away, giving him a stern look that for a brief second made her eyes look just like her dad’s. “So you didn’t work with  _ my _ dad. You worked with dad.”

Peter felt the lump in his throat grow exponentially, his eyes welling with tears that he hastily wiped away with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. God - I-I thought it was just me.”

Pepper put a hand on Peter’s head, running her fingers gently through his hair. “He thought the world of you, Peter. It wasn’t just you.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice, as Morgan stepped out of his arms but still held onto one of his hands. “Let’s go get some ice cream, that’ll make you happy.”

“Ice cream sounds good,” Peter smiled, glancing back at Pepper who was smiling at the two of them. He let Morgan drag him into the kitchen and watched her look through the freezer. His eyes wandered over the kitchen, falling on a picture that was near the sink, above the dishrack.

He couldn’t help the sob that shook his chest but he also couldn’t help the sad smile that spread across his face. It was a picture of him and Tony. The sight of it warmed his heart while simultaneously breaking it, and he let out a broken breath, feeling the ache in his chest just as Morgan slammed a bucket of ice cream on the counter beside him.

“Can you help me serve it?” Morgan asked, holding a spoon out to him.

“Yeah,” Peter said, hastily wiping the tears from his face and tearing his eyes away from the picture. “Of course.”

**…**

It’d been a week since Peter had gone to visit Pepper and Morgan, with the promise of more visits to follow, and Peter felt that it had been the right thing. In his heart, he felt that. But he felt that it had maybe been too soon, as his nightmares had singled into one recurring nightmare, and he kept seeing something out of the corner of his eye. Seeing someone.

Peter stumbled out of bed, his thrashing around in his sleep sending him crashing over the edge and onto the floor. “Oh, God, oh, God,” Peter gasped as he gathered his bearings, sitting up on the ground and taking in deep lungfuls of air, reminding himself that he was there, in his room, and not  _ there _ , drowning underwater.

Once again, it was the same nightmare, just being stuck underwater, trying to get out, but never managing to get close. And there was always the silhouette of a body floating far above him, the shadow of someone always out of reach. The dream left him feeling anxious and upset, and he felt himself start crying without meaning to. He curled up into a little ball, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as he put his forehead on them and cried.

The door to his room was flung open, light spilling in from the hallway, showing a worried and still half-asleep May glancing quickly around the room before her eyes landed on Peter on the floor.

She stepped inside, rushing over to Peter and pulling him into her arms.

“I miss him so much, Aunt May,” Peter sobbed, holding onto her tightly.

“Oh, Peter, I know, sweetheart, I know,” she said, running her hands up and down his back, giving him gentle reassurances and the comfort he needed.

Peter opened his eyes, catching sight of a third person in the room in the reflection of an academic decathlon medal that was lying on the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, curling even further in on himself. “I feel like I see him sometimes, May. I miss him and I see him and I want him back so bad.  _ It hurts so bad _ .”

May only held on tighter, tucking Peter’s head under her chin. “I know, sweetheart,” she sighed in defeat. “I know.”

He kept his eyes shut, holding onto May, not wanting to open his eyes and see once again that the man in the suit was just a figment of his imagination, a manifestation of his grief. Mr. Stark isn’t here, he told himself, but the image of him in his reflection was unmistakable, his tailored suit and sunglasses and the casual stance clear even in the reflection. The image was seared into his eyes, and it was something he wasn’t able to shake even after the sun rose.

* * *

 

Peter Quill had had a long day. After a job went sideways and they had barely managed to get away with a couple of scrapes, the merchandise, and a prosthetic arm, Quill was ready to call it quits, and just knock out. However, his stupid brain kept repeating his last conversation with Gamora - not his Gamora, but the Gamora from the past.

_ “So, no chance that you can stay here, with us?” Quill asked, leaning against one of the tables in the lab. It jostled the table a bit, send a pen rolling a little, but not calling any attention to them. _

_ Gamora sighed. “No, Peter Quill, I will not be staying. I have to go back.” _

_ He reached out, about to hold her hand, but thought better of it, just letting it fall back to his side. “But you’d be all alone. That Nebula’s gone, that dickface is gone too, thank God,” Peter said. “You could stay here with -” _

_ “With you?” Gamora quipped, her tone tipping into sarcasm. She shook her head, seeing the hurt look that crossed his face. She sighed again, gingerly taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know my Nebula is gone, and that Thanos is gone too. While it pains me to leave this Nebula, to leave the sister that could have been, that’s all this version of her will ever be to me. What could have been, not what  _ is _.” Her expression darkened briefly, her eyes losing focus for a second. “And as for Thanos...I’m free now.” She met Peter’s eyes again. “And while Nebula told me of the relationship you and I have, that doesn’t exist between  _ us _. I’m not your Gamora.” _

_ “I know,” Peter whispered, feeling his voice break. _

_ “My Peter is back there. I don’t think you want to steal his chance at this,” Gamora added, squeezing his hand again. _

_ Peter looked down, giving Gamora’s hand a squeeze back. “That guy’s a real moron. I don’t think I’d care if he didn’t get his chance as long as you stayed here.” _

_ There was silence, and when he peeked up, she was staring at him with such an intensity that he had to remind himself again that it wasn’t her. It wasn’t his Gamora. _

_ He sighed in defeat. “You’re right. Please take care of yourself.” _

_ Gamora let go of his hand, a small smile starting to quirk her lips. “I can take care of myself.” _

_ “I know,” Peter smiled back. “Just take care of him too.” _

_ “It’s clearly what I do since you’re still alive,” she answered, the words causing an ache in Peter’s chest. “I’ll find you all.” _

_ “Is that a promise?” Quill grinned, despite the ache. _

_ “Of course,” Gamora shrugged. “Now that I know I have a family out there, I’ll find you guys.” _

_ “Knock some sense into me, will you?” Peter called out, as she walked towards the machine that would send her home, take her away, again. _

_ “Trust me, Starlord, I will,” she answered, throwing a carefree smile over her shoulder at him. _

Peter tossed around in bed, turning over and punching his pillow a few times out of frustration. He lay down again with a huff, hoping that maybe now sleep would find him, letting him escape his waking regrets.

**…**

It was foggy, a slow rolling cloud obscuring everything not within a dozen feet of him. It had an orange hue to it, making the fog look unnatural. Peter looked around, feeling disoriented and confused. He didn’t know where he was.

“Mantis?” he whispered into his communicator. “Hey, Mantis, what are we here for?”

There was nothing but static on the other end of the line. Peter tapped it a few times, trying to see if that would maybe help the signal get through, but there was still no answer.

He took a tentative step forward, and could hear the light sound of water moving. Looking down, he noticed he was standing in it, that the ground was covered in a thin layer of water, not enough to soak through his boots but just enough for his steps to cause rings to ripple out.

“Okay,” he said quietly to himself. “I’ll know it when I see it, probably.” He kept walking, crouching down to try to use some of the fog as cover as best as he could. There were a couple of pillars, seemingly made out of wood that jutted out from the ground, holding up wooden beams. They looked like entrances, but when he stepped through, they led to nowhere.

Ruins, most likely, he thought.

He stepped forward, into another entryway, then heard a voice behind him call out, “Mother?”

Turning toward the voice, Peter could see a little girl walking away from him, into an entryway and disappearing into the fog. The sudden urge to follow overwhelmed Peter, and he ran over to where he’d seen her vanish. Her silhouette appeared ahead of him, but when he got to her, she wasn’t there.

“Mother?” he heard again, from further into the fog.

“Kid!” Peter shouted, “Hey, kid! Wait up! I can help you!”

The shadow moved further away from Peter, the little girl’s cries growing more frantic, “Where’s my mother!”

Peter ran towards her voice, running harder and harder, turning past columns and doubling back, just trying to follow the sound of her voice. He kept chasing her for what felt like an eternity, not stopping until everything had grown silent.

He slowed to a stop, straining to hear her.

“Have you seen my mother?” the small voice asked, and Peter quickly turned around, staring down at the little girl who stood right behind him. She was wearing traditional clothes, clothes that he couldn’t quite place, and despite the orange glow from the fog, he could tell her skin was green. Her dark red hair was pulled up into braided pigtails. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old. But her eyes - her eyes were focused, hardened, giving her the look of someone much, much older. The look of someone who had seen too much violence for someone her age.

He recognized those eyes.

Peter jolted awake, looking around his room wildly. He fisted his hands in his blankets, trying to ground himself, trying to stop the shaking in his fingers. He was breathing heavily, and he immediately scrunched his eyes shut to try and calm himself.

“Just a dream, just a dream,” he kept repeating to himself. But he was too scared to open his eyes. He could have sworn that when he woke up, his room had that orange glow of the fog. He could have sworn he’d seen those haunted eyes staring right at him from the reflection of the window that overlooked the endless expanse of space.

“It was just a dream,” he said again, reaching blindly inside his blankets and pulling out his Zune, shoving his headphones on. He needed an escape, and since sleep wasn’t going to cut it, music would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty gang so here i'm making past Gamora go home because c'mon she has her own Peter she needs to meet, I don't fuck with "replacement" people, like Peter/OG Gamora all the way, not past Gamora, because sorry, they aren't the same people. Gotta show our girl some respect man
> 
> also, my poor spiderson is handling this not so great, and he's in so much pain, but it will get better with time
> 
> catch you all next time!


	3. Woman in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mantis feels things she can't place until she recognizes one of them, and Clint can't help but chase the only ghost that he hopes never stops haunting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so don't get used to me updating every day, but like right now i'm just going hard, but once monday hits and i'm back to class things will slow down here a bit
> 
> anyway, yeah here's #3, hope you guys like it, it still hurts but I promise i'll make it better

It’d been a couple of days since someone had asked Mantis for help to try to get to sleep - a couple of days where she had let herself believe that everyone on board was managing sleep just fine. But they weren’t, and she could tell.

She could tell from the brushes she had with them, from the brief passing of skin on skin as they handed things to each other, walked past each other. She could feel their grief and anguish, their pain and despair. She could feel their anxiety and sadness, the heavy, aching, sadness.

Mantis knew what that felt like - she was dealing with those feelings too, coping with everything that had happened. The pain was just so much deeper for Nebula, for Quill - they were the closest to Gamora, and even in the split second brushes she had felt the ocean of their pain. She didn’t know how they managed to go on every day. If she constantly felt the way they did, she thought she would go mad.

Yawning, Mantis tossed around in bed, turning from one side to the other, trying to get comfortable. Even though she could help others go to sleep, the trick had never been one that was meant to be used on herself. She settled on laying on her back, staring at the ceiling, and just thinking about the churning emotions inside her. To stay on top of things as an empath, she needed to be able to sort through her own feelings and make sense of them, put them to rest so that they didn’t haunt her.

Trying to make sense of them had gotten harder and harder since they came back from the snap. Tonight Mantis believed it’d be no different.

Sighing, she began to concentrate, closing her eyes and sifting through her feelings, trying to untangle them and find what was causing them, moving from one to the next to the next. It was a long process, one that she sometimes fell asleep halfway through. All of her emotions were deeply intertwined, so the untangling was the process that took the longest, unwinding all the strings and then following them to their root.

However, there was one that was connected to nothing, a hovering feeling of calm that washed over her. It felt strange, foreign, yet comforting. Her eyes snapped open.

Mantis sat up in bed, looking around her room. It was empty, nothing to be seen or heard, but her antennae were shining and she could feel it, a presence.

“H-hello?” she tentatively called out.

No response, but the detached feeling of calm remained.

“My name is Mantis,” she continued, shaking the covers off herself. “I can feel you in here, with me.”

The feeling of calm intensified, almost as if it had tapped into Mantis and was slowly filling her up, and now that Mantis focused on it, she could feel more. There was that overwhelming feeling of peace, but beneath that, there was a bittersweet regret, a deep longing and quiet loneliness. Tears welled in Mantis’ eyes.

“It’s okay, I’m not scared,” Mantis reassured in a whisper, feeling her throat constrict as she was overcome by the foreign emotions.

Mantis reached a hand out, as if to touch something in the dark, when suddenly there was a knock on her door. The presence vanished, blinked out of existence along with the glow from her antennae as soon as the knock was heard.

“Yes?” Mantis asked, clearing her throat and wiping at the tears in her eyes.

“Lady Mantis?” came the muffled reply from outside. Thor. No one else called her Lady Mantis. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m having a lot of trouble sleeping. Do you think you could help me?”

“Of course,” Mantis called out. “I’ll be right there.” She climbed out of bed, scanning around as she walked to the door, then slipping out and following Thor to his room.

**...**

The next time it happened was a few days later, while she was watching Rocket and Peter tinker around on some equipment. She sat on the stairs, far enough to not be in their way but close enough to hear them argue and bicker as they worked. She was swaying slowly from side to side as she hummed one of the songs Peter sometimes played when she felt it. A presence.

Her antennae twitched.

A different presence.

Mantis looked around in confusion, trying to see if maybe someone had walked by her without her noticing, but no one was near her. This presence felt familiar, but only faintly, as if it were someone she’d only interacted with for a short amount of time.

Sitting back, Mantis let the feelings wash over her, clenching her fists at her side. This one was in a lot more pain than the other.

This presence was a maelstrom of emotions, warring between relief and regret. The regret was tied to failure, so much failure, to disappointment, to grief, to sadness - but the relief, it was tied to love, to victory, to courage, to sacrifice. It was like having the sun in her chest burning fiercely and unapologetically and feeling everything passionately with no room for anything lukewarm.

She took a deep breath, pushing in further, sifting through the emotions, trying to figure out what she was feeling, what the presence was. There was a sense of urgency to it, the need to recognize what it was. She’d felt a part of this before, the regretful parts of this. Mantis knew she’d felt this before, knew if she dug deep enough she’d figure it out.

“I am Groot?”

Mantis felt as if suddenly she were slammed back into her body, sitting on the stairs. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap and her skin was clammy. She glanced over at Groot who was standing a step above her.

“Yes, Groot, I am okay,” Mantis answered, glad that she managed to keep her voice steady.

He cocked his head to the side. “I am Groot?”

She nodded, “Yes, I am sure. Thank you for asking, though.” She reached up to touch her now dimming antennae.

Despite his youth, Mantis knew that he could tell she was lying through her teeth. He just shrugged though, stepping around Mantis and down to where Rocket and Peter were still working. She breathed out a sigh of relief, glad he didn’t press her.

To her disappointment, the presence was gone. It had disappeared as quickly as the other one. But they weren’t the same, Mantis thought. But it felt like it was thinking. Like it was thinking it's way out of the typhoon. Mantis didn’t know what that meant.

**…**

Mantis wasn’t one to venture out of her room when she couldn’t sleep, but tonight something called to her, a draw that brought her to one of the wide windows on the side of the ship. She watched the stars and planets as they cruised by, the expanse of eternity open up before her.

For once, she didn’t try to examine what she felt about it. She decided to just admire it, keep this moment as it was, and ride out the beauty of it. It was late at “night” - the 12 hour bloc that they’d decided was for sleep - and so no one was around, the only sounds the whirring of the machinery and the soft purr of the engine. The sounds of home.

It was easy to relax while listening to it, to put everything on hold for a few minutes, and so she leaned against the wall of the hallway, taking a deep breath and feeling how as she exhaled everything grew a little looser, less tense. It was easy to let her guard down in the safety of the moment.

She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling, and when she opened them, there it was. The reflection of someone standing behind her, the dark silhouette of a woman standing a dozen feet down the hall, her antennae illuminating the silhouette.

Even without turning around Mantis knew that nothing was actually there for her to see. It was only a feeling. A presence.

Mantis moved forward slowly, walking closer to the reflection, keeping her eyes on it but opening up her emotions to everything around her. She didn’t dare speak - she barely dared to breathe. It was the first time a feeling had come with something that could be seen.

Ever so slowly, she reached her hand up toward the glass, and gently touched a finger tip to the reflection.

Mantis stumbled back, falling against the floor in her sudden desperate need to run away. “I know you,” she choked out against the sobs that were starting to claw their way out of her throat. “I know who you are! I know what he did to you! I felt what he felt! But now -” She put her hands to her chest, curling in on herself and wailing in agony at the hurricane she felt consuming her. “I  _ felt _ what he did to you. I am sorry! I am so,  _ so _ sorry.”

There was the sound of pounding footsteps above and loud voices shouting out her name, but Mantis couldn’t answer through her sobs. Suddenly there were people all around her, reaching out and holding her and hugging her.

“What’s wrong, Mantis? What’s going on?” Rocket asked, coming up right in front of her and worriedly searching her face.

She couldn’t answer. She merely shook her head, slumping into Peter’s arms, and kept crying.

* * *

 

The rain was coming down in sheets, making everything around him blurry and hard to see. Clint raised an arm over his face to try and keep it from his eyes, to try to make out where he was.

“Laura!” he shouted out. “Cooper!” He slogged through the rain, trying to see if he could spot them. “Lila! Nathaniel!” He kept yelling their names, screaming himself hoarse. He couldn’t see or hear anyone past the thundering rain, and suddenly a thought struck him as a raindrop landed on his eyelashes.

This was a dream.

The feeling of worry that had been forming in the pit of his stomach vanished with that, and Clint dropped his arm to his side, closing his eyes and letting the rain wash over him.

“Okay,” he breathed, tilting his head up. He opened his eyes, squaring his shoulders, “I guess we’re doing this.”

Clint kept walking in the rain, just walking and walking across the watery, glass-like ground. It felt endless, but he knew he would wake up eventually, so he might as well see if there was an end to wherever he was.

He was so, so glad he’d kept walking.

After what felt like days, out in the distance, he could see someone moving in the rain, fluid steps back and forth. An elegant dance, their lithe form jumping gracefully in the downpour. Although the moves were delicate, there was an underlying strength, a deadly power that was hiding in the calculated pirouettes.

Clint could have recognized her anywhere. He started sprinting towards her, his heart in his chest, his mind chanting  _ it's a dream, it's a dream, it's a dream. _ But he didn’t care. He needed to get to her.

“Nat!” he shouted, reaching out to her, close enough that he could see the little mole on her right cheek.

Her eyes met his, and she reached out towards him.

His hand touched nothing as he bolted in bed, her name tearing from his throat.

“Clint! Clint, honey, what’s wrong?” Laura asked, his shouts waking her, immediately sitting up and touching Clint’s shoulder.

He jumped at the touch, turning frantic eyes to her, but when he recognized her he leaned into the touch, letting his head drop to her lap as he took a shuddering breath.

“I saw her,” he whispered. “Again.”

Laura ran her hand up and down his back reassuringly. “Nat?” She guessed given how he had been shouting her name.

Clint nodded. “She saw me this time, though.”

Her hand stilled for a brief second before it continued it's slow motions. “Maybe next time you’ll be able to talk to her. Maybe that’s how you get the dreams to stop.”

“Yeah,” Clint nodded again. “Maybe.”

But he knew that if he was ever able to talk to her in those dreams, he’d never want to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeaaaaahhhh so my poor girl's been traumatized by all the shit she feels and Clint keeps getting closer and closer to Nat
> 
> and sidebar, I love Laura and Clint and that's the ship imma respect in this particular fic, but i'm a clintasha at heart like that'll never change i'm a slut for clintasha


	4. Echoes in the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Hope witness something strange and Steve's regrets threaten to drown him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe that this is the first MCU fanfiction I've written? like wild right? I'd honestly kept away from MCU because I was like y'know what, they're fine, they're okay, i'll stick to just reading, but then Endgame happened and I was like um nope what the fuck I need to fix this ASAP
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

Scott opened up the healing-particle-absorber (that’s what he called it in his head, Doctor Pym had a much more scientific name to it), drawing in all the nearby particles in the area. He let himself drift slightly, moving a little farther from his starting point and opening it up again.

It was mundane work, harvesting the particles, but he knew it was to help a friend, and he honestly loved that it was mundane. It was quiet, calm, just him and the quantum realm, the kaleidoscopic colors swirling in front of him, shaping and reshaping and collapsing and refracting all around him. It helped him feel at peace.

Since coming back, it had been hard to adjust. Cassie had gotten so big, the world had changed so much, and all over the course of five hours to him. It was overwhelming at times, to walk up to the door expecting to see his little peanut but instead seeing that she was growing up, five years of her life that he’d missed.

Again.

He shook the thought from his head. It was no use to beat himself up over something he’d had no control over. He was just glad he was now able to spend time with Cassie, that she still wasn’t old enough to think he was lame or old or any of that stuff he saw from teenagers on TV. She was still his little peanut, even if she was now almost a head taller than she’d been. He hoped it didn’t turn into a Hope-Hank situation and that Cassie never got taller than him.

Scott smiled at the thought, a warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of the biggest loves of his life. Hope was out of the quantum realm right now, waiting for his signal, probably monitoring every little blip that came up on the sensors. He was in safe hands.

It took about another half hour, moving a couple more feet this way and that in that weird drifty sort of way that you moved in the quantum realm, but he’d managed to fill up four full canisters of healing particles. He was just about finishing up the fifth one when he collided with something.

Looking around in sudden alarm, Scott saw nothing. Just empty space, the same fluttering particles and shifting colors, nothing out of the ordinary for the quantum realm.  He reached his hand out in front of him, waving it around. It passed through the space with no resistance. He turned around slowly, still moving his arm out in front of him, when suddenly he felt it come into contact with some kind of wall. A barrier.

“Well this can’t be good,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Scott? What can’t be good?” Hope asked over the comm, her voice sharp.

“I don’t know,” Scott answered, running his hands over the barrier, over the invisible force directly in front of him. “Some kind of wall.”

“A wall?” Hope’s voice sounded skeptical. “There should be nothing in the quantum realm but particles at the size you’re at.”

Scott nodded, then, remembering Hope couldn’t see him, said, “I know, but it’s here, I’m touching it, Hope.”

“What do you mean you’re touching it? Get away from it - whatever it is, it might be dangerous,” she scolded, a hint of worry starting to color her voice.

“Yeah, you’re…” he trailed off, noticing that the thing  _ wasn’t _ completely invisible. There was a faint orange glow and a shimmering dark spot. It seemed almost as if there was something  _ inside _ the wall. Then came the shout. A loud, desperate shout, shouting out a name - so loud that even Hope heard it.

“What was that?” she asked, voice low and measured.

“Hope, I think it's time you pulled me out,” Scott quickly answered, pushing off and away from whatever it was at the same time that he felt himself get launched backwards, the quantum tunnel shooting him out like a cannon. He landed on his feet but stumbled, the cannisters dropping to the ground.

“Scott! Scott, are you okay?” Hope ran over to his side, helping keep him steady.

He clicked his helmet back, sucking in a breath of fresh air, holding onto Hope’s arm a little more forcefully than normal.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, his eyes wide, looking to Hope to confirm that he wasn’t losing it.

Hope dropped her gaze and shook her head as she bit her lip, “Nothing got picked up on the readings -”

Scott felt himself deflate.

“-but I did hear it. The voice,” Hope finished.

“A man’s voice,” Scott added. “It almost sounded like -”

Hope covered his mouth with her hand, shaking her head. “The voice from your nightmares?” she guessed.

He nodded, eyes still wide and looking a little uneasy.

She dropped her hand, leaning back against the lab table behind her as she crossed her arms. “Maybe we imagined it.”

“But you heard it, too, Hope,” Scott said, not wanting to brush this off like they’d brushed off the nightmares. “You heard him, too.”

“We’ve been under a lot of stress lately, trying to adjust to all the changes,” Hope explained, but even she seemed unsure. “I don’t know what we heard, but we can’t immediately jump to thinking about the nightmares.”

Scott nodded, slowly moving to lean on the table right next to her and put his head on her shoulder. “Hope, we both know something’s going on here.”

He felt her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed. “I know.” She was quiet for a few beats. “I genuinely thought they were just nightmares we were having, but after this…”

“You’re not so sure,” Scott finished.

“I’m not so sure,” Hope agreed. She let out a huff of frustration. “Dammit, we could have just gone on ignoring those dreams but now, now -”

“We’ll figure it out,” Scott said, lifting his head and giving her a confident smile, a smile only Scott Lang could pull off after coming face to face with a part of the nightmare that had been haunting the both of them for weeks.

“Yeah,” Hope smiled, loving the wrinkles at the corners of Scott’s eyes when he smiled, and trusting him, trusting them. “We’ll figure it out.”

* * *

 

Steve flipped through his sketchbook, slowly going through each picture he’d drawn. He ran his finger over the side of the page, careful not the smudge the pencil marks. Even though he wasn’t much of a show-off, he felt proud of his work - he felt that he might even pick up drawing again.

“That’s a portrait of Bucky, right?” Peggy asked, sidling up beside him.

“Jesus, Peggy, you scared me,” Steve said, slamming the book shut as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her cheek as he tucked the sketchbook beside him in the armchair he was sitting at, trying to hide it from her view. For some reason he felt as if he’d been caught looking at something indecent.

Peggy only shrugged as she mussed up his hair. “That’s a really good drawing, Steve. I looks just like him,” Peggy added. “No need to hide it.”

“S-sorry,” Steve apologized. “I just -” he paused. He didn’t know why he was so nervous to even acknowledge that he’d drawn Bucky. “It’d been a long time since I’d seen these,” he said. A half-truth.

She tapped a finger to her lips. “You know,” she began, “when you went into the ice, I got a lot of your stuff. You had no family, besides Bucky, and well, he…” she trailed off. Steve had told her about what had happened in the future, had told her what they were probably doing to Bucky right now.

His heart ached knowing he couldn’t possibly go save him without causing all sorts of problems. It bothered him to feel like he was abandoning his best friend to fend for himself alone against Hydra.

But he wasn’t the Steve that was supposed to help this Bucky - that Steve was in the future, and when he finally reunited with him, maybe he’d make the right choices and things would be happy for them. The thought gave his chest another pang, this one bittersweet and tinged with a bit of envy.

Peggy nudged Steve’s shoulder.

“Uh - yeah?” he asked, looking up at her.

“You didn’t really get a word I said, did you?” she sighed. Steve dropped his gaze, blushing even more. “I said that even though I’d gotten some of your things, I’d never brought myself to go through them. It felt like some weird invasion of privacy.” She shook her head, then smiled, “But maybe you could show me some of them now, if you’d like?”

“Okay,” Steve hesitantly agreed, bringing out the sketchbook. He felt incredibly nervous for some reason as he opened it up in his lap, slowly turning from page to page and letting Peggy take them in.

There were lots of drawings of landscapes, of places and buildings in New York and even of places from his war years. But every other page or so, there was a drawing of Bucky. There was Bucky, walking down the street. Bucky sitting on his couch. Bucky eating ice cream. Bucky reading a book. Bucky cooking in the kitchen. Bucky in his uniform. Bucky with the Howling Commandos. Smiling in some pictures while in others he had a look of intent focus. They were all showing different parts of Bucky, Bucky in such an intimate light that it made Steve flush darker as they kept looking.

Steve had to keep himself from slamming the book shut when they got to the picture he’d been dreading the most. It was a picture of Bucky, hair a mess, a blanket over him. His expression was soft, his smile lazy with half-sleep. Steve remembered when he drew it, after a long night where a bad cold had knocked Steve down with a horrible fever. Bucky had spent the night, had made sure he ate and went to bed, had stayed to help nurse him back to health. When Steve had woken up with the rising sun, Bucky had still been sound asleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest almost lulling Steve back to sleep, too. But Bucky had looked so sweet and comforting, Steve had to capture the moment.

And so he had drawn him. Half way through it Bucky had woken up, giving him that smile that Steve had managed to put on the paper. He’d watched as Steve finished, his eyes switching from Steve’s face to his hands and back. It had been a moment that Steve held close to his heart, one that he felt his drawing was exposing for the world to see.

Peggy gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. “You draw Bucky a lot, don’t you?”

“Y-” Steve cleared his throat, a sudden lump making the word catch there. “Yeah. It was how I could tell how good I was getting, how much more they started to really look like him.”

She took Steve’s hand, guiding it to close the sketchbook. “We don’t have to keep looking at these. I know you miss him a lot.”

Steve nodded, tears welling in his eyes. He blinked them back as best he could, the sudden weight of just how much he missed Bucky dragging his heart to the pit of his stomach. “I-I really do miss him.”

“It’s alright,” Peggy said, pulling him into her arms. “Let it all out, soldier.”

And he did, crying into the arms of his best gal about his best friend.

**...**

The bracelet felt cold in his hands, a cold that seeped into his skin and almost felt like it touched his heart. He’d been doing that more often now, going back and pulling out the bracelet, putting it on, holding it close. He’d missed his chance when he made his choice. Steve put the bracelet to his lips, gave it a soft kiss, then put it away again in his bedside table, hoping that maybe sleep came easy tonight.

It didn’t, unsurprisingly.

Steve felt the water surrounding him, could feel the oppressive darkness all around him, with the only light coming from the surface. He kicked out wildly, trying to propel himself forward, to finally,  _ finally _ make it to the top. The body was there again, floating like it always had been in his dreams.

He knew this dream would be no different.

Despite being underwater, he felt tears sting his eyes. Things would be no different. Bucky was still out there, getting tortured,  _ his _ Bucky, the Bucky from the future was dealing with everything he’d been through all alone.

Bad friend, terrible _ , terrible _ friend, he thought. He felt that same drowning sensation starting to overtake him, but it wasn’t just water this time, suddenly it was all his failures, all the decisions he’d made that he’d come to regret.

He regretted letting Bucky go to war alone in the first place. He regretted not getting to him quicker the first time, not reaching him on the train in time. He regretted taking so long finding out he was alive, finding him always too late, always,  _ always _ too late. He regretted the way he’d handled things, the way he’d tried to do everything himself when he could have trusted his friends, his family, to help him with it.

Steve regretted turning helping Bucky into choosing him over Tony. He never needed to make that the tradeoff, but with his decisions, he’d turned it into that. He turned helping his best friend into betraying his other best friend.

And he hadn’t even been able to apologize to Tony about it.

A frustrated cry escaped his lips, forcing out the last bit of air from his lungs and letting the water flood in. The panic intensified, and Steve swam harder and harder, his tears and the tearing torrent of water making it hard to see.

But he could see that the shadow of the man was getting closer. He would wake up any second, Steve thought, nothing’s going to change the end of this nightmare. He closed his eyes, still making the mad last-ditch effort to break the surface, when suddenly he felt like he was being pulled backwards. He opened his eyes in time to see the man right in front of him, to see the back of his black t-shirt, his short hair.

Without hesitating, Steve surged upwards, fighting against the tremendous force trying to pull him down. He reached out, his hand landing flat on the man’s back, palm resting between the shoulder blades.

* * *

 

Tony’s eyes snapped open, breathing in heavily and in a panic. He sat up, splashing the water around him, eyes darting around frantically as he took in deep lungfuls of air, trying to stave off the feeling of drowning.

Somewhere in the universe, Tony Stark breathed again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuuuup and now maybe there won't be another update until a couple of days?? sorry guys, i've actually been pushing myself really hard with publishing so many chapters back to back, and I promise i'll be back as quickly as classes allow me to
> 
> I hope you guys are liking it so far :)


	5. Disheartened Skeptic and Reluctant Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds himself alone someplace desolate while the nightmares continue - some refuse to hold out hope, while others reluctantly realize what this could mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack
> 
> Alrighty well, I hope you guys like it, I worked really hard on this and I'm working really hard on coming chapters, more of my faves are jumping back in and i'm so damn excited tbh
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Steve woke with a start, feeling a sharp pain in the palm of his hand. Looking down, he realized he’d clutched the vial in his sleep and it had shattered in his grasp. He sat up, quickly throwing open his bedside drawer and finding the compass-locket he had there. As carefully as possible, he picked out the nano-particles from the mess of glass and blood (his skin had already healed over by that time) and set them inside the compass.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve whispered, feeling as if Tony had just slipped from his fingers in the night.

* * *

Tony sat up, gasping for air, the splash of the water loud in the silence. He looked around frantically, panicked. Seeing that no one and nothing was around, he closed his eyes, letting his shuddery breaths level out. He kept them closed, running his hands over himself as he tried to assess himself for injuries.

Arms, legs, chest, head - everything seemed to be in working order. He felt fine. 

Then he reached for his chest again, feeling panic make him cold all over when he found that the arc reactor wasn’t there.

His eyes snapped open as he patted himself down once more, keeping himself tense and ready for anything. He felt fine, but he had no idea where he was or why he didn’t have his reactor. The last thing he remembered was fighting in the ruins of the compound and taking the stones from Thanos -

The snap. Pepper and Peter’s faces.

Tony dropped his head in his hands. He’d died. He had gone up against Thanos again and this time he’d  _ died _ .

But we won, he reminded himself. Yet not even that thought could really console him. He couldn’t imagine how much pain he’d put Pepper through, how he’d left Morgan and Peter and Harley behind. It was a pain that cleaved into his chest, one that made Thanos stabbing him all those years ago seem like a pinprick in comparison.

He swallowed down his tears, thinking instead of how he’d finally rid the world of that monster. He’d saved his family, he’d saved the universe,  _ his _ universe. They were all safe, even if he wasn’t there to see that with them.

Tony sighed shakily. He knew the life of a hero was guaranteed to end bloody, but he just wished he’d been able to pull off a last second win that would have meant no one died. It hurt to finally come to terms that the universe was just unfair like that.

Lifting his head, Tony once again surveyed the area. Empty. Nothing, just water as far as the eye could see and a handful of little mounds of sand, small rolling hills that dotted the landscape.

“So this is it then?” Tony asked to no one in particular. He stood up, groaning at the stiffness of his muscles and brushing his hands over his clothes instinctively. Surprisingly, he was completely dry. “This is all there is to it?”

No response, not that he expected one.

Even though he had no idea what to do - Tony had never died before, so this was way out of his depth of expertise - it felt wrong to just sit and cry. He was Iron Man. Even in death he knew there was something to be done.

And so he started to walk, his only company the soft ripples that followed his every step. It was quiet, almost maddeningly so, but Tony kept going. He’d been through worse than a little silence.

It had been quiet for such a long time that he almost dismissed the voice he heard calling out as just his imagination filling in the silence, but after hearing the shouts coming every dozen minutes or so, Tony realized that maybe he wasn’t alone.

He turned around, coming out of his thoughts, and came face to face with a giant wooden column. “What the -” he started, but then he noticed the fog rolling in, the fog that obscured everything around him.

Tony immediately pressed his back to the pillar, cursing himself for letting his guard down. But even if he’d been that distracted, he should have noticed the column since it was the one other thing there with him and especially since it was standing right where he’d walked through.

That train of thought led him to one conclusion: wherever he was could change at a moments notice. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the pillar. Even in death it seemed like he couldn’t catch a break.

Glancing down, Tony noticed that there were a few ripples in the water, ripples that weren’t coming from him. Steeling himself, Tony slowly peeked his head out from behind the pillar just in time to see a little girl walk past him.

“Mother? Mother, where are you?” she asked, her braided pigtails swaying as she turned her head from side to side.

It was just a lost, scared little kid. Seeing her all alone broke Tony’s heart.

Without hesitating, Tony stepped out from behind the column, lifting his arms in a nonthreatening manner. “Hey, kid, I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Do you need help?”

The little girl froze, her green skin paling in fear. She took a step back, glancing around nervously.

Tony crouched down to one knee, bringing himself to her level. “It’s okay, I promise. I can help you.”

Her lower lip quivered as she shook her head vehemently, then she bolted off into the fog, weaving between the pillars and columns that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Wait, kid! It’s dangerous to be all alone!” Tony called out, taking off after her before she was swallowed up completely by the fog.

* * *

Stephen Strange had never been superstitious - at least before he’d gone to Kamar-Taj. Now...well, he’d seen and been through so much that he felt it’d be stupid on his part to ignore things that may have seemed out of the ordinary. So all of the nightmares he’d been having had been something he’d been trying to unravel for the past few months.

The first couple of times he’d had them he’d just written them off as his guilt literally “drowning” him, the guilt he felt for not working harder to find a different ending to their war against Thanos. But now, he felt that maybe there was more to them than met the eye.

He sighed, slumping in his chair as he put his spoon down, his pint of Stark Raving Hazelnuts halfway finished. “C’mon Strange, figure it out,” he said to himself as he closed his eyes, trying to push his mind to remember and dissect every single aspect of his nightmare. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. No matter how many times he went over the details, he felt like he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Something cool was then pressed to his lips, and opening his eyes he saw that the Cloak of Levitation had gotten a spoonful of ice cream and was trying to feed him. He opened his mouth with a small smile, letting the cloak give him the mouthful. “Thanks,” Stephen murmured, patting the cloak. It wrapped a little tighter around him, it's version of a hug, Stephen assumed.

Stephen took the spoon from the cloak, going back to eating his ice cream. There was something there, he thought, his mind once again on his dream. He was sure of it.

**…**

Meditating in the Mirror Dimension was one of Stephen’s favorite pastimes. Not only was it quiet and calm, but if he lost his temper, if his frustration got the better of him, he could lose his cool and let it all out without hurting anyone.

Which was exactly what he was doing now, sparring with Wong. He had lost all the matches so far, getting sloppier and sloppier as they kept going.

“Stephen, don’t you think we should take a break?” Wong asked as his friend jumped to his feet again.

“You’re right,” he reluctantly admitted, running a hand over the stubble on his cheeks. “As much as I hate to say it, I can’t focus on anything right now.”

Wong nodded, giving Stephen a sad sigh. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re entitled to off days, even as Sorcerer Supreme.” He waved his hand in front of him, opening a portal back to their normal dimension. “But do keep up with the goings on of the universe, we don’t want to be caught off guard by anything.”

“That’s what I’m working on,” Stephen said as he adjusted the cloak back on his shoulders.

“Do you want anything in particular for dinner?” Wong asked as he stepped through.

“I’m actually feeling like having a couple of cheeseburgers,” he answered.

Wong nodded. “I’ll just pop by California, get us some In n Out.”

“A vanilla milkshake would also be amazing, Wong,” Stephen added.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Wong called out, and then he disappeared.

Stephen watched as the final sparks from Wong’s magic dissipated then began walking around, beginning some light meditation. He didn’t want to completely surrender himself to emptying his mind and expanding his consciousness today. He was too tired for that. Just being in silence for a while would have to suffice.

He walked for a while, moving things here and there to let him keep walking. He liked watching the sunset over the New York skyline when he was in the Mirror Dimension, liked the way that the soft orange glow refracted against the glass. He headed over to the top of the old Avengers tower - now converted into some part of the Stark Industries offices - and walked along the edge of the giant balcony.

This was the place he found himself coming to most often whenever he was in the Mirror Dimension. He watched the sun set, deciding to stay around until the glow finally vanished completely beneath the horizon. It took only a handful of minutes for the sun to completely disappear, so Stephen waited. And waited. And waited.

The light from the sunset wasn’t going away. He squinted his eyes, looking closer at the horizon, before noticing that the orange glow wasn’t coming from the west, where the sun had just dipped beneath the skyline. It was all around him.

He whipped around, magical energy already appearing around his wrists, his mind working a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what seemed to be in the Mirror Dimension with him and what spells might work against it.

Then he heard it. A voice.

“It’s okay, I promise.”

Stephen turned his head to the side and saw a man on one knee, holding his hands up, his face gentle and coaxing. He looked just like the first day he’d met him.

“Tony?” Stephen choked out, reaching towards him without thinking.

Before he could touch him, the image vanished, the orange glow fading away with it. Stephen felt his heart pounding in his chest. He looked fine, healthy - he looked  _ alive _ . He looked so alive, and he sounded like he was talking to someone, but that was impossible, because Tony was dead, he saw him die, he saw him die  _ so many times _ but this time had been real, it had been final.

He shook his head, his hands shaking uncontrollably at his side. He wasn’t alive, he couldn’t be. He turned on his heel, suddenly wanting to escape the Mirror Realm and go back to the Sanctum, finish his meditation there.

Stephen couldn’t let himself believe Tony had somehow made it. He couldn’t afford to give himself that false hope.

* * *

Sakaar was getting along relatively nicely for having toppled their old oppressive regiment. Granted, the Grandmaster had managed to sweet-talk his way out of execution, and was now living as a “symbolic” ruler, but the ruling council that had come to power had done leaps and bounds to make everything much nicer for all the inhabitants of the planet. No more gladiator battles - at least not to the death - no more enslavement, and no more fear of death looming over everyone’s heads. It was still the same lawless atmosphere more or less, but it felt good, stress relieving, the perfect chaotic environment for the God of Mischief. Loki would even say that he was thriving.

He would say that, but, after managing to elude Thanos and then coming back from “the snap” as everyone had begun to call it, there was a part of him that still felt uneasy. Loki felt restless and a little frustrated with himself for feeling that way.

Here he was, getting exactly what he wanted - a position of relative power where he could do as he pleased, a roguish planet that allowed him to cause as much trouble as he wanted, and enough luxuries to keep his royal wants sated.

And still it wasn’t enough.

Loki frowned as he stared out his window overlooking New Sakaar. He knew what it was that was bothering him, but he’d told himself that if he just kept ignoring it it would go away.

Except it hadn’t. And now it was undeniable what he was seeing.

It was Stark, on some unknown plane of existence. Stark, who had been floating in the water every single night until a couple of nights ago, when suddenly he’d disappeared. Stark, who he’d last seen trying to talk to a little Zehoberei girl. He didn’t recognize her.

But he’d seen Stark, he’d  _ heard _ Stark. This was nothing like his nightmares about his mother or even of his father. Those nightmares just felt like dreams, real in the moment but even then dreamlike at the edges, no real substance to them. These nightmares weighed on Loki, and not just in the way of loss. Loki shouldn’t have been feeling anything - he cared not for Stark, and even less for the complete stranger.

Yet, here he was, the nightmare heavy on his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew that calling it a nightmare at this point felt wrong. These weren’t nightmares. They were something else, something tangible, something that was happening -

He let out a sharp breath. They were visions.

Tony Stark was fucking alive. And Loki’s newly rediscovered conscience wasn’t going to let him rest until he at least told the Avengers about it, apparently.

“Fucking dammit,” he cursed, already moving for the door. He knew that the Avengers Quinjet that Banner had landed on had been repaired, and it was his best bet at finding them since it had the coordinates he needed.

Without meaning to, a smile started tugging on his lips. “Your savior is here,” he grinned to himself. Time to go home.

* * *

“Kid, just wait, wait - let me help!” Tony shouted, looking around to try and spot the girl again.

“Mother!” she called out farther away, more desperately than before. “Mother, where are you! I don’t want to get taken away again!”

Tony ran towards her voice but slowed down, coming to a stop just as he could barely make out her silhouette cowering behind one of the pillars.

He crouched down again. “Is that what you’re scared of? Getting taken away?”

She met his eyes for a second before looking away, nodding frantically.

“I promise I’m not going to do that, okay? I just want to help you find your mom. Is she here?” Tony asked gently.

The little girl ducked further behind the column. “I don’t know.”

He frowned, chewing on his bottom lip. “Where do you think she is?”

“Dead,” the little girl answered after a few beats of silence.

Tony felt his heart sink.

“But I’m dead, too,” the girl added. She took a deep, shuddery breath, the telltale sign of tears, “She should be here - she should be here! Mother! Mother!”

“Hey, kid,” Tony said quietly. She peeked her head out, just far enough that she could barely see him. “I’m dead, too. Don’t you think it’d be better to work together?”

The little girl held his gaze for a few more seconds before disappearing again. “But what if the bad man sent you to take me to him?”

“Th-the bad man?” Tony asked, feeling something turn in his stomach.

Her answer was a barely audible whisper, just loud enough for Tony to hear, sending chills down his spine.

“Thanos.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeaaaah so Loki's back because um I call bullshit on the way they killed him off in Infinity War like the Russo's are really those bitches huh and as for Mr Doctor Strange, well I love the insufferable smart ass, I can't wait to write more for him
> 
> Also, I hurt my own feelings writing Tony for this chapter like fuck man he loves his family so much and he just wants to see them again :'(((
> 
> I hope you guys liked it! I'll see you guys with the next chapter soon!


	6. Recognition and Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Scott both reach out, both for some kind of reassurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so its my dad's birthday, and this one goes out for him - i mean I know he's not gonna read this but he's been really supportive and it makes my heart happy, so yeah dude i'll cheers to that support
> 
> May the 4th be with y'all, and I hope you guys like this next chapter!

“Th-thanos?” Tony stuttered out involuntarily. Even in death that bastard was still haunting him. He swallowed down his fear, a swell of determination rising in him. He didn’t want the little girl to be scared anymore. “I don’t think Thanos is here. And if he is, I’ll make sure he doesn’t take you.”

He saw the top of her head as she looked around the pillar at him again, her expression equal parts curious and suspicious. “But what if you’re working for him?”

Tony shook his head. “I promise I’m not.” Then, since it was worth a shot, Tony said, “How about I tell you my name? I’m Tony Stark.”

“Stark?” she asked, suddenly taking a step out from behind the pillar to get a full look at Tony. “I’ve heard that name before,” she said quietly, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she thought.

Taking the opportunity since it was the most the girl had shown herself, Tony raised his arm slowly in her direction. “What’s your name?”

“Gamora,” the girl answered, a hint of pride in her voice as she raised her head to meet his gaze. And suddenly Tony realized he’d heard that name before.

_ “Where’s Gamora?” Starlord demanded, holding a gun to Peter’s head. _

_ “He - he mourns,” Mantis cried out as she subdued Thanos. _

_ “He came back with the Soul Stone. But she didn’t.” Nebula explained, sounding almost detached to distance herself from her pain. _

_ “My sister,” Nebula had told him as they drifted through space all alone, “would have enjoyed the game you showed me.” _

“I know your sister,” Tony blurted out, his hand still extended towards the little girl. “I know Nebula.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You know Nebula?” she asked, her lower lip trembling.

Tony nodded. “I do. She’s missed you a lot,” he said.

Her face dropped, her expression of heartbreak crushing his own. “No she doesn’t. It’s my fault Thanos hurt her so much.” Her eyes welled up with tears that she furiously wiped away. “She hates me,” she hiccuped.

“Gamora, no, why would you say that?” Tony asked gently, slowly inching towards her. Seeing her crying like that made his father instincts go into overdrive, it made him think of all the times Morgan had ever cried and how it physically pained Tony to see her hurting so much. “Your sister told me such nice things about you.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “That’s not true,” she sobbed. “She hates me! And you’d hate me too if you knew me.”

And then she turned around and ran into the fog, giving Tony only a split second to sprint after her.

* * *

 

Not a day went by that Bruce didn’t at least glance over whatever notes they had on the quantum realm and on the infinity stones, usually late at night when no one would bother him. He knew his chances of harnessing that power disappeared as soon as Steve went back in time to return them and didn’t come back, but he had a nagging feeling at the back of his head that power like that couldn’t just be destroyed like Thanos had claimed he did. It just didn’t seem possible.

Bruce refused to believe it was possible.

So there he was, slumped over in his lab as he dozed, a mug of now cold coffee sitting at the edge of his desk, papers strewn about. There were blueprints and scraps of paper, all covered in notes by Tony and Hank Pym, some with scribbles written in by Scott, and a handful of notations added in by himself. He’d already been over them dozens of times in the time since...since Tony.

It didn’t get any easier to remember what happened, and it pained him to see one of his best friend’s writing on the sheets of paper, his writing lean and slanted, rushing to write like he was running out of time.

Bruce worked a lot harder not to think about Nat.

He stirred in his restless sleep, his fingers twitching around the pencil in his grasp.

Then the phone rang. He sat upright with a start, sending the mug crashing to the floor. He groaned at the pulsing headache that he could feel beating in his skull, the shattering glass and his blaring ringtone making it worse, sending the remnants of his dream scattering, the feeling of rain on his skin fading away as he woke.

Bruce fished his phone out of his pocket, running a hand over of his face as he got out of his seat and moved to try and pick up the mess on the ground. “Hello?”

“Hey, pal, buddy - sorry to bother you -” the voice rambled on the other line, almost sounding out of breath.

Even though he’d only interacted with him a handful of times, hearing Scott made Bruce smile. The guy was nice, and getting a call from him helped him feel a little less lonely. “Slow down there, Scott. Is everything okay?”

There was shuffling and the sound of Scott giving an exasperated sigh, then Hope was on the line, “Doctor Banner, we just wanted to inform you that there’s something we found in the quantum realm.”

Bruce straightened where he’d been crouched on the ground, his eyes flickering towards the notes on the desk. “What kind of something?”

More shuffling, then a bit of static, then, “Something that’s in there, but not.”

Of course Scott would come back to explain it in the most cryptic way possible.

“What do you mean ‘there but not’?” he asked again.

Back to Hope. “It seems like we’re seeing something. Its physically there, but it won’t come up on any of our sensors. And when we were right up close -”

“-we heard something coming from it,” Scott finished.

“You heard something,” Bruce repeated. He felt his mouth go dry, a sudden expectation coiling in his chest. “What did you hear?”

“It’s Clint,” Scott answered, his voice dropping lower. “And he’s always shouting Natasha’s name.” There was a beat of silence. “We’ve been seeing this in our dreams, too”

Bruce nodded, the image of a woman dancing in the rain flashing in his mind for a brief second. “Let me know if it happens again,” Bruce felt himself answer mechanically as he sat back on the floor. “I’ll look into the notes I have here and we can come back to this later - or, or tomorrow.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I’ll call Clint, see if that leads anywhere. I don’t know what this could even mean, this sounds so bizarre -”

“Do you think she’s not gone?” Scott interrupted. “Steve took the stone back, do you think-”

“I’m not going to consider that possibility. I can’t afford to go through that by letting myself think like that,” Bruce quickly replied, his tone clearly ending that line of conversation. “I’ll see what I find here. Be careful.” And before Scott could say anything else, Bruce ended the call.

He sat there, staring at his phone, his heart heavy in his chest, his mind racing with possibilities. One thing at a time, Bruce thought to himself. He scrolled through his phone, finding Clint’s number, his finger hovering over it.

One thing at a time.

* * *

 

Nebula had always hated sleep. She felt that it was the time when she was the most vulnerable, when there was the highest chance that someone could sneak up on her and catch her off guard. Besides, it's not like sleep did her a whole lot of good. Most of it consisted of nightmares of everything her father had done to her, all the things she’d been subjected to while under his “care”. She remembered all her fights with Gamora, every terrible, sour loss, and every single torturous aftermath. She hated sleep. But it had only gotten worse after the final battle.

Now, all her nightmares were of her sister like she remembered her when she first met her, alone and scared in some unknown place. She was always calling out for her mother, always sounding desperate and heartbroken. It almost made Nebula wish she’d lost her feelings when her heart had been carved out of her chest.

This time was much worse though.

The fog was there, as always, but this time Gamora was running in fear, her arms and legs pumping as hard as they could. She was running away from something, and when Nebula turned around, she saw it was the shadow of a man running after her.

“Leave me alone!” Gamora shouted, ducking and weaving between the pillars. Nebula quickly followed suit, uncertain and scared, seeing Gamora looking so terrified getting the better of her.

Nebula kept looking over her shoulder, something tugging at the back of her mind every time she heard the man yell out for Gamora to wait for him, that he wouldn’t hurt her. They finally stopped when Gamora collapsed behind one of the columns, shaking as she sobbed, her arms wrapped around her as if to shield herself from whatever was coming.

Something snapped inside of Nebula. She recognized that posture, that fear, the attempt to shrink into yourself to try to hide away from the world, away from the ones that would hurt you. It was the same way she would cower before Thanos picked something else to tear from her.

She stood, anger coursing through her, and turned towards the shadow, letting her hand run over the top of Gamora’s head as she walked by. Then she charged.

Nebula ran at the figure right as he was calling out Gamora’s name, a snarl ripping her throat, and tackled the man to the ground. They tumbled to the ground, rolling around in the water until Nebula was on top of him, her hand tight around his throat while her metal hand was whirring as she readied to shoot. She leaned forward, breathing heavily, and her grip went slack.

“Tony?” Nebula whispered, confused and alarmed.

He coughed, one hand going to his neck and the other to his chest. His hand passed right through Nebula’s as if she hadn’t been choking him just a second ago. And Nebula started to sink.

She tried to pull back, to jump to her feet, but she was stuck, passing right through Tony, and then she was staring up at the foggy sky, unable to move. There was a groan, and hands covering her vision, and then she could see jeans and water rippling out all around her.

“What the fuck -” she heard Tony cough, but not like she was hearing him out loud, but as if she were hearing him in her own head. She tried to move again, but she still couldn’t, with whatever was in her field of vision being out of her control. There was shuffling, and then she was seeing things again as if she was standing.

“Kid,” Tony coughed out, “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.” Once again, his voice was in her head, as if she was the one saying it. As if she was -

Nebula felt her mind reel back, the only thing she had control over.

She wasn’t there anymore. All that she was seeing now was through Tony’s eyes.

There was the sound of crying from where she’d come from, from where she knew Gamora was hiding. “You’re a liar!” she yelled out.

Tony winced. “Gamora, I wasn’t lying when I said that Nebula missed you.”

“She hates me! I’m the reason she got hurt!” Gamora cried.

_ You’re not the reason I got hurt _ , Nebula thought.  _ The only one to ever blame is Thanos. _

There was a pause. “You’re not the reason she got hurt,” Tony said. “The only one to ever blame is Thanos.”

Gamora sniffled. “But I did everything he wanted, I didn’t even try and fight him.”

“ _ You couldn’t fight him. You only did what you could to survive _ ,” Nebula said, speaking through Tony. “She knew it was always Thanos. Not you.”

* * *

 

Tony saw Gamora peek her head out again. His chest and throat still ached from the tumble he’d taken, a weird feeling as if he’d been shoved to the ground, but he was getting her out again, the right words flowing out of him suddenly.

“Even though she never told you, she loves you, Gamora. Even after everything, you were all she had, the only real family she had,” Tony swallowed, a lump forming in his throat and tears clouding his vision. He dropped back to his crouch, reaching out to her slowly, his hand outstretched, palm up, an invitation. “Thanos drove a wedge between you for a long time, but in the end, you were sisters. She always,  _ always _ wanted nothing more than to be your sister.”

“I wanted her to be my sister, too,” Gamora whispered, her voice shaky. “I wanted to be with her and to be like real sisters, not what he made us be.”

* * *

 

“She wants that, too,” Tony said as Nebula thought it, the only difference being the pronouns as thoughts translated to words. “She still wants that.” Something burned inside of Nebula, a conviction and a vow, a pledge to die trying. “She’s going to come get you. She promises she’s going to come find you.”

Gamora took a step towards Tony, a tiny step.

Nebula woke up in a frenzy, slamming back into the present, into her body, and jumped out of bed, falling to her hands and knees in front of her bedroom door. She was breathing heavily, her arms shaking, the gears in her head literally turning as her mind raced.

“Quill!” she shouted out, getting up and wrenching the door open. “Quill!”

There was a muffled response from elsewhere in the ship, from the mess hall area. She sprinted towards their voice, colliding into Thor as soon as she ran inside.

“Woah, Nebula, why the rush?” Rocket asked as Thor steadied her on her feet.

She shook him off, ignoring Rocket and going straight to Quill. “We need to go back.”

“Go back?” Peter asked, his spoonful of food halfway to his mouth.

“To earth. To the Avengers,” Nebula quickly answered. “I keep having dreams about Gamora when she was little, but today was different, today Tony was there, and I talked to Gamora and she answered and -”

“Wait, wait, Gamora when she was little?” Quill asked, putting his spoon on his plate and getting up. “Is there fog - lot’s of fog?”

Nebula nodded, her eyes narrowing, “How did you know that?”

Then everyone was talking at once.

“Is it a little Zehoberei girl?” Rocket asked.

“Does the small one keep asking for her mother?” Drax called out.

Mantis raised her hand, “Does she seem lost?”

“I am Groot?” Groot added.

“Is there water all over the ground?” Thor’s voice boomed.

Quill got up, raising his voice. “Hey, hey, hey! From the looks of it, we’ve all been having the same dream. That definitely means something.” He turned to Thor and Rocket, “Get everything ready. We’re getting there as fast as this ship can take us.” He then looked at Nebula, his expression a mixture of relieved and worried. “This doesn’t feel like a coincidence. I fucking knew something wasn’t right about those nightmares.”

“Do you think she’s reaching out to us?” Mantis asked from where she sat, her hands clasped in front of her, fingers fidgeting.

“I am Groot?” Groot asked, frowning.

“From the stone,” Nebula said, the only answer that made any sense. “She’s reaching out from the soul stone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyy hope you guys liked it, finally had to bring in my boy Banner and Tony's teenage child Nebula like it was about damn time
> 
> see you guys as soon as possible! Thank you for reading and thank you for like comments and kudos, they give me life :')))


	7. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy makes Steve come to terms with how he's feeling and Tony and Gamora trek forward to the oncoming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a fun chapter to read like fuck man this chapter and chapter 4 are definitely my favorites so far, I hope you guys like them too!
> 
> shit's going down and pieces are gonna start falling into place

Gamora shyly walked up to Tony, and slowly, hesitantly reached out for him, growing taller and less scared with each step, the little girl turning into the fierce warrior right before his eyes. She put her hand in his, looking down at him. 

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” he said, a relieved smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” she answered, helping him to his feet. The fog began to fade, taking the pillars with it, leaving them alone on the glasslike, watery surface. “So now I finally get to meet Thanos’ biggest fear.”

Tony looked taken aback. “Thanos’ biggest fear?”

Gamora nodded. “Thanos feared you since the invasion with Loki and the Chitauri in New York. He knew you were the biggest threat to his plan.”

“Well,” Tony said, running a hand through his hair, “I guess he was right, since I was the one who ended him.”

“And in so doing ended yourself, it seems,” Gamora observed.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed. “Yeah, that’s...yeah.” Wanting to change the subject, Tony gestured around. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, right?”

Gamora looked around, taking in their surroundings. She frowned, taking a few steps forward. “This looks like Vormir, but there’s something different about it.”

“Excuse me, Vormir? Where’s Vormir - what’s Vormir?” Tony asked, walking after her.

“It’s where the Soul Stone was kept, it's a lonely planet, hard to find, right at the center of the celestial existence of the universe.” She turned to him. “It’s where I died.”

“Where Thanos brought you,” Tony said quietly.

Gamora nodded, her expression growing perplexed. “But, it's not the same place. Something feels weird about it.” She looked around, scanning all around them. “I don’t see the mountain where the keeper resides,” she told him.

Tony followed her gaze, took in the water and sand all around them. “What about that?” he pointed out, signalling towards a darker area on the horizon, like a coming storm.

Her expression grew troubled.

“That doesn’t seem right, does it?” Tony asked, not really wanting to hear her answer.

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. She sighed, squaring her shoulders. “But it's all we can really head to, seeing as everything else looks the same.” She jerked her head in that direction. “So, what do you say, Stark? Ready to check it out?”

“Like you said, we don’t really have a choice, and going into something weird was how I found you, so we might as well,” Tony shrugged. “Let’s go.”

They walked in silence for a while, before Gamora spoke again. “You said you know my sister.”

“She was my only company when I thought I was going to die, right after the snap,” he admitted. “We became unlikely friends.”

Gamora smiled wryly. “Unlikely friends. That seems like Nebula.” She glanced over at Tony. “Tell me about yourself, Titanslayer.”

“Titanslayer,” Tony repeated with a grin. “I think I could get used to that.”

* * *

 

Steve came back from his morning jog - his three hour morning jog, having left at around four in the morning, and coming back just now a little past seven. He’d had another nightmare, this time of Tony walking across a barren landscape, and after waking up and holding onto the time bracelet for a while, he’d decided to exercise instead of trying to go back to sleep.

It was the fourth day in a row that he did that.

By the time he got back, Peggy was already gone. Being a SHIELD founder meant early mornings and long hours, with short evenings and nights at home. Even though it bothered him to admit it, Steve found himself preferring the time he got alone to the time he got with Peggy.

He liked being with Peggy, but he wasn’t so sure how he felt about  _ being _ with Peggy anymore. Steve tried to ignore the feelings, pushing them down further to the back of his mind. He couldn’t second guess his decision - he couldn’t let himself even  _ think _ about regretting it, especially when there was no way he could change it.

Instead of thinking about it, Steve decided to just sit and use his free time to try and finish the drawing he’d been working on for the past week. It’d been a long time since he’d had the time - and nothing threatening looming over his head - to get back into drawing, and so he’d been easing his way back into his favorite pastime.

“Alrighty then,” he said to himself, opening up his sketchbook. He smiled down at the picture, a soft smile, one full of longing and bittersweet yearning. “Let’s finish you up.”

Steve brought out his pencils and set to work, his subject ever present in his mind, a face that he would never be able to forget.

**...**

It was around three o’clock when Peggy stopped by in the middle of her work day. “I’m home!” she called out, quickly stepping into the foyer and then heading straight for her “work chair” where she kept a stack of important documents right by the dining room table. “But I’m only here for a second, I just forgot some of the contracts we had written up for some of the new hires,” she explained, flipping through the pages. She could hear the sound of running water upstairs, and realized Steve was in the shower.

He probably didn’t even notice me, she mused, setting a manila folder on the table and picking up another. She got through a few pages before shaking her head, and moved to put it down when something on the table caught her eye.

She set the folder down and leaned over the table, taking in the drawing in front of her.

It was Bucky, smiling up at whoever he was looking at, his long dark hair framing his face. He was wearing robes instead of traditional clothing and it looked like the sun was setting behind him. His eyes were bright, playful and lively, the wrinkles in the corners of his eye bringing out the warmth in them. His smile was soft, lips barely lifting up as if he had just seen something he loved.

Peggy felt something give in her chest. He was looking at Steve. And from the looks of it, Steve was looking back, even if he hadn’t even realized it himself. She sighed, the sound catching in her throat.

“He’s always been running after you, James,” she said, smiling sadly. “Always after you.”

She dug through the documents until she found the ones she was looking for, then returned the other ones to the pile, making sure that it looked like it’d been untouched. She wiped at her eyes as she looked at the picture one last time before turning around, heading for the door.

The shower overhead was still running as she stepped outside, Steve never even noticing her.

**...**

Steve was waiting with dinner ready by the time Peggy got home after the sun had set.

“They sure kept you late,” he commented, stepping out from the kitchen and going to give her a kiss.

She moved her head a little, letting him kiss her cheek. “Just went to ask a friend for a favor,” she answered, shrugging off her coat and setting it on the back of one of the dining room chairs. Steve’s sketchbook was nowhere to be found.

“I decided to make some spaghetti, let me go get that out -” Steve began, already turning around to head back to the kitchen.

Peggy steeled herself, then pulled out three little red vials, setting them on the table.

Steve froze. “What is that?”

“Pym particles,” she answered. She turned and met his gaze. “You can go home now, Steve.”

He shook his head, reaching out and taking her hand in his. “But I am home, right here, with you.”

She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. “No, you’re not,” she said. “I can see it, and I know you see it too.” When Steve didn’t say anything, she continued. “Maybe...maybe this could have been ours in another life, but it's not.”

“I do love you,” Steve reassured her, the “but” ringing loud and clear in Peggy’s ears even before he said it.

“But not enough to be truly happy with a life with me, Steve. I understand, I’ll be okay,” she promised him. “I’d rather you be upfront with me than stay with me because you feel bad for me.” She squeezed his hand. “And, Steve, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t need you. I can live without you.”

Steve smiled at her, tears in his eyes too, as he brought her into a crushing hug. “God, Peggy, you’re the best gal ever.” He pulled her away from him, his hands on her shoulders. “I love you so damn much, Peggy. But you’re right - I’m sorry I was putting us both through this.” He averted his gaze. “I was in love with the  _ idea _ of being with you, but I don’t think I was  _ in _ love with you…” he trailed off. “That doesn’t change the fact that I do love you though!” he added in a rush, looking up at her. “Fuck, I’m not making any sense -”

Peggy patted his cheek affectionately, managing to laugh even through her heartbreak. “You really haven’t changed, still stumbling all over yourself when talking to a pretty lady.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I understand what you mean, Steve, you don’t need to explain.” She stepped back, motioning at the particles. “Now go on, then, Rogers. Time to head back.”

He nodded, racing upstairs and coming down with the locket and bracelet, fueling it with the Pym particles. Steve plugged in the coordinates he needed, having made the calculations in his head over and over and over again. It hit him just then that he’d been looking for a way home the entire time he’d been with Peggy. He looked at her as she went around, making sure Steve had everything he might want to take back with him. She definitely was the best gal ever.

Peggy handed him his sketchbook. “Make sure you talk to him, will you?”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion as his nanosuit stretched and expanded, wrapping around him. “Talk to who?”

“To Bucky,” she said, tapping his helmet. “You keep running after him. Do it right this time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded. He held her hand again. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” she said. “But we both have our lives ahead of us. Now go and live yours.”

Steve nodded again, giving her one last look before sending himself back, disappearing from Peggy’s dining room and letting her live her life as he ran after his.

* * *

 

“Is that rain?” Gamora asked once they got close enough to be right in front of the storm.

Tony stuck his hand in it, feeling the drops hit his skin. “Feels like it.” He looked up, his eyes following the rain into what felt like infinity. There was no clouds overhead, just rain, and it started right in front of them, as if separated by a wall.

“This is...strange,” Gamora commented.

They stood there and simply watched it for a while, watched the drops hit the water and cause ripples to ring out, watched the solitary shadow shift from side to side far in the rain.

Gamora squinted. “Is that -?”

“A person? Yep,” Tony answered. “Will we -?”

“We have to,” Gamora replied, already knowing what his question would be.

Tony sighed, already exhausted. “Let’s get this over with then.”

And they both stepped into the rain.

* * *

 

Scott once again found himself in the quantum realm, trying to see if he could find that thing again. Which was a lot harder than it sounded since it was literally avoiding all their radars.

“Anything?” Hope asked over their comm.

“Nada,” Scott sighed, drifting along a bit. “Do you think we were actually imagining it?”

Hope gave a tired sigh. “If it had been just you who heard it, I might have thought you had imagined it -”

“Hey!” Scott protested.

“- but since we both heard it, I don’t think we both imagined the same thing so clearly like that,” she finished.

He put his hands to his helmet, the drain of energy from having started looking for that thing so much and the lack of sleep getting to him. “Yeah, I know, it’s just that -”

Something flew past him, a blur of red and white.

“Hope, bring me back now! Bring me back now -” he started to shout before he was immediately pulled back, his feet hitting the lab floor before his knees collided with something in front of him and he tripped over it.

“Scott, get away from that, get up,” Hope commanded, slowly moving around the lab station.

The thing underneath Scott shifted, a groan coming from him. Scott braced himself on his forearms, looking down and recognizing the suit. Recognizing the ass of the man in the suit.

“Cap?” Scott asked, completely bewildered.

There was a click, and suddenly the helmet disappeared from his head as the man weakly flipped himself over. “Hey, Scott,” Steve grinned up at him, looking absolutely exhausted. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy's suspicions were finally confirmed and I mean hunny he doesn't deserve a bad bitch like you especially when he's been pining after Bucky this whole time. I love Peggy Carter but I'm just not a Peggy/Steve shipper, especially with how they "pulled it off" in Endgame, like that shit was disrespect to all three characters so yup I had to do this to fix this shit
> 
> And ugh I'm just all about Gamora and Tony now getting to bond over Nebula that makes me so happy like my heart is swooning
> 
> I hope you guys liked the chapter!


	8. Friend and Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the present Steve reunites with friends and world's away Gamora and Tony reunite with a friend of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so um why did the Far From Home trailer make me so fucking sad like who the fuck said that shit was okay - but I mean now y'all know what Peter looks like every time he breaks down and sobs for Tony, just picture him how he was in the trailer, red, puffy eyes, and a raw emotion on his face that can't be described so yup thanks FFH for that but I wish you just hadn't because now my heart hurts
> 
> anyway, this has got another of my favorite scenes so far, so I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Bruce had been disheartened after his call with Clint.

_ “It’s all just guilt messing with our heads,” Clint sighed. “It’s weird that we had the same dream and stuff, but that’s all it is.” _

_ “But what about Scott -” _

_ “Guilt, Bruce. It’s guilt.” There was silence for a second. “Do you really want to lose her all over again by thinking it's anything else?” _

He’d stayed up all night looking over everything after that call yesterday. About a half dozen Monsters, three pots of coffee, and just as many 5 hour energies later, Bruce was still shuffling papers around, cycling through them to try and see if he had missed anything - anything that might prove something was going on.

Just as Bruce was about to open up his thirteenth can of Monster, his phone started ringing, the screen lighting up to show Scott’s face as he tried to video call him. Bruce swiped his finger across the screen to answer as he rubbed a hand over his stubble tiredly, lifting the phone so that Scott could see him.

“Got something for me, Scott?” Bruce asked.

Scott glanced over at something offscreen, then shrugged at Bruce. “Actually -” He turned his phone so that Bruce could see the familiar face of the man sitting beside him.

“Steve,” Bruce breathed, shocked to see his friend again.

He gave him an exhausted smile, his eyes apologetic. “Hey, Bruce.”

“-so as you can see, Doctor Banner,” Scott finished as he squeezed closer to Steve so both could be within view, “There’s some _ one _ here for you. And he’s been seeing some shit in his dreams, too.”

Bruce could feel that bubble building again, deep in his chest. He didn’t want to address it full on yet. “Get yourselves out here, as quickly as possible.” He looked down at the papers strewn in front of him. “I think this is something we have to deal with together.”

* * *

 

It hadn’t taken very long until they were close enough to the shadow to be able to make out that it was a woman - and after that, it had only taken a half dozen more steps until Tony recognized her.

“Natasha?” he asked, his expression pained and relieved and happy all at the same time.

She paid him no mind, performing a lithe jump and a tiny spin, completely focused on the dance she was performing.

He took a step closer to her, his eyes shiny with tears as he reached out to try and catch her arm.

Gamora was quicker, grabbing him and stopping him in his tracks. “Who is this?”

“That,” Tony said, glancing back at Gamora before his eyes went right back to his friend, “is Natasha. She’s an Avenger and one of my closest friends.” He swallowed thickly. “She sacrificed herself for the soul stone.”

Her face was unreadable as she let him go. “Don’t trust what you see in here, Stark. You saw how I was when you found me - we have no idea what’s going on with her, especially since it doesn’t seem like she even sees us.”

Tony nodded, barely listening to what Gamora had said. He didn’t think he’d ever see Natasha again.

“Hey, Widow,” he said quietly, moving towards where she’d moved to, his arms back up in the non threatening way he’d had them when he talked to Gamora. 

No response.

“It’s me, Tony,” he whispered as he got closer, dropping his hands a little but turning them so his palms were facing towards her, showing he was completely unarmed, the raindrops falling onto his fingertips and creating small puddles in his hands.

She danced around him, once again ignoring him.

He pointed at Gamora. “That’s my -” He paused. Company in this lonely place? Acquaintance? “Friend,” he settled on, the word feeling right and true as soon as he said it. “She’s my friend, Gamora. I think you’ll like her when you get to know her”

Natasha’s dance continued, bringing her between Tony and Gamora, her expression vacant. It broke Tony’s heart. “I’ve really missed you, Nat,” Tony whispered, taking a step closer just as Natasha finished her pirouette.

Her elbow brushed against his fingers, and her eyes snapped towards his, finally seeing him for the first time.

He smiled. “Hi, Romano-”

Natasha’s blank expression suddenly transformed into a snarl as she lunged at Tony, knocking him off his feet as she elbowed him in the face.

“Tony!” Gamora yelled, running over and wrapping her arms around Natasha as she pulled her away from the now bleeding Tony, his hand covering his broken nose.

Natasha bucked her head back, slamming into Gamora’s face and busting her lip, causing Gamora to let her go in surprise. She jumped back, away from the pair, staying crouched, her eyes flicking back and forth between them, looking wild and lethal in the rain.

“I don’t even have my suit,” Tony groaned as he staggered to his feet, the water beneath them now tinged pink.

There was a flash of lighting and a clap of thunder as Natasha rushed forward, the rain turning into a full blown storm as she attacked.

* * *

 

“I’m so glad Mr. Stark let you guys use his private jet for this,” Scott gushed as he stepped onto the tarmac, just having gotten off the nonstop flight from San Francisco to the Avengers Headquarters on the East Coast.

“Boss told me to take care of you all,” FRIDAY’s disembodied voice came from inside the plane. “He said to always make sure to do whatever I could to help if he ever,” there was a somber pause from the AI, “left.”

Scott’s smile dropped from his face, the fight and the funeral suddenly fresh in his mind. “Right, yeah,” he mumbled quietly.

Hope came down right behind him, reaching for his hand and giving it a small squeeze.

Steve stepped off last, looking at the ruins and renovations of the head quarters. While the main building had been completely destroyed, there was another building that had been built, much, much smaller than the first, but big enough to hold what had been salvaged from the wreckage and Bruce’s new lab.

“On your left!” a voice called out before Sam landed beside them, the Falcon’s wings retracting into the pack on his back.

“Sam!” Steve exclaimed, bringing his friend into a tight hug.

Not having expected such a show of affection from Captain America, Sam hesitated for a split second before returning the embrace. “It’s good to have you back, Cap,” he said.

“It’s good to be back,” Steve grinned as he pulled away. He glanced around, trying to be discreet, but obviously failed because his friend immediately knew who he was looking for.

“He’s inside,” Sam told him, leading the way towards Bruce’s lab, giving Hope a polite nod of greeting and Scott a teasing, “Tiny.”

The walk was quick, taking maybe ten minutes tops before they were all heading down the elevator towards the lab, but the entire walk Steve was feeling a nervous excitement build in his stomach with each step they took.

As soon as the doors opened, Steve was dragged out and crushed against Bruce, the man’s voice breaking as he said, “God, Steve, I missed you so much.” He set him down, glaring down at him as he ran a hand over his face to hide his sniffles. “I thought I’d fucked up in my calculations! I thought you got stuck somewhere because of me!”

Steve looked down, feeling awful that he’d made his friend feel like that. “I’m sorry I-I really should have told you, I just wasn’t thinking -”

“Understatement,” Sam muttered, causing Scott to elbow him and Hope to stifle a laugh.

“- but I started making the calculations myself once I was...settled,” he trailed off. There was a beat of uncomfortable silence.

“So, retirement didn’t sit well with you?” someone asked.

Steve felt his heart jump to his throat.

He glanced past Bruce to see Bucky leaning up against a lab table with his arms crossed, a soft smile on his face.

It felt like everything slowed down while simultaneously speeding up as Steve walked over to Bucky, countless explanations and apologies running through his head but dying in his throat. He didn’t say anything as he pulled Bucky into his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve without hesitation, his fingers wrapping into the back of his shirt as he held him tight against him.

“Oh, Bucky,” he whispered, his voice breaking on his name.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky said quietly, his words muffled against Steve’s shoulder.

“God, still a jerk,” Steve laughed, feeling light and giddy and finally  _ home _ . Everything felt right in a way that Steve didn’t think he’d ever feel again.

They pulled back, eyes bright and warm and suddenly feeling like anything was possible, but as Steve opened his mouth to say something, Bruce coughed awkwardly to get their attention.

“I’m sorry to break up the reunion, guys, but I think we really need to talk about what you’ve been seeing, Steve.” He gestured to himself and the rest of the group. “Something about this isn’t adding up - or it is, but we’re not so sure we want to believe what it may be adding up to.”

Steve nodded, going into Captain America mode. “I’ll tell you guys everything I told Scott and Hope, and we’ll see what kind of plan we can come up from there.” He took a step away from Bucky, following Bruce towards the table with all the notes, but he didn’t let go of him, his hand settled comfortably on the small of his back.

Yeah, Steve thought as he glanced over at Bucky, catching his eye and giving him a smile. It's good to be home.

* * *

 

Natasha punched Gamora in the face, dodging a hit before kicking her in the chest. She whirled around to duck under Tony’s punch before sweeping her leg underneath Tony, sending him to the ground.

“Fuck,” Tony cursed, quickly scrambling to his feet before Natasha was able to kick him.

They’d been at it for a handful of minutes now, locked into a now deadly dance that Natasha had choreographed.

Gamora rushed at her, only to get tossed off Natasha as she used Gamora’s momentum  and the slick from the rain against her. Gamora landed on one knee, twirling around and landing a solid blow to Natasha’s side.

She hissed in pain, then body slammed Gamora into the ground, jumping over her to catch Tony’s fist in mid swing, twisting his arm behind him and bringing him to his knees.

“Romanoff,” Tony bit out, his teeth grinding together in pain. “It’s me, it’s Tony.”

Natasha twisted his arm back further, threatening to dislocate it entirely, before she was ripped again from Tony.

“He’s your friend!” Gamora shouted as more thunder clapped as she threw Natasha over her shoulder, the loud splash and resounding thud as Natasha hit the ground sounding so painful even Tony flinched.

Before Gamora could move to help Tony up, Natasha was back on her feet, making a running leap at Gamora and bringing her down, putting her in a chokehold between her thighs while grabbing Tony and wrapping her arms around his throat.

“Not - again,” Tony choked out as Gamora desperately tried to pry Natasha’s thighs from her throat. He wrapped his fingers around her arm, pulling it away enough to catch his breath before Natasha doubled down, cutting him off completely, black dotting his vision, the only thing in his line of sight being Gamora thrashing around to breathe just as desperately as he was.

* * *

 

It was a nice, sunny day. The boys were running around playing soccer, Lila was once again practicing archery, and Laura was watching it all from the sidelines, a calm, serene expression on her face as she enjoyed the sunlight.

Clint wanted to feel at ease, wanted to feel like everything was nice and normal, but a part of him was on edge. Today was too much like the day he lost them all, five years ago.

He tried to focus on his family, on how nice the sun felt against his skin, how happy it made him to hear them playing and laughing. The breeze blew softly through the field, making the wind chimes jingle as it sent them tinkling against each other.

Suddenly everything shifted, the sun giving way to lightning and pouring rain, the calm breeze turning into earth shaking thunder and harsh winds. Clint looked around frantically, immediately recognizing where he was, but completely confused as to why it had been thrown into such chaos since the last time he’d dreamt it.

Thunder roared again, and lighting illuminated the sky - the light shining onto three struggling individuals, two of them fighting the third, throwing punches and kicks before getting overpowered in a move that Clint had been put into more times than he could count.

“Natasha!” he screamed, sprinting over to help her. He ran as fast as he could, the rain blinding him for a second as he slipped. He got onto his hands and knees, close enough to see who she was fighting.

It was the green assassin - Gamora, Nebula’s sister. And the second one almost made Clint cry as soon as he saw that familiar face.

Tony.

“Natasha, stop!” Clint shouted, putting all his strength into it, trying as hard as he could to be heard over the hurricane raging around them.

She froze, her body relaxing for a second, a split second, enough for Clint to know that she had heard him.

* * *

 

There was a moment of clarity, a pause, as Natasha gathered her bearings. She looked around, having sworn she’d heard someone calling her name from somewhere in the rain, when she remembered the writhing bodies in her grip. She looked down, immediately seeing Tony’s now purpling face in her arms.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, letting him go and also dropping Gamora, scrambling away from them. “I’m so sorry, Jesus Christ, Tony, I almost killed you!”

Tony coughed, his hand at his throat, as he lay on the ground. Gamora was on her hands and knees, almost retching to try and get rid of the feeling of asphyxiation from her throat.

She glared up at Natasha, a scratchy growl coming from the back of her throat, but Tony put a hand on her arm, giving her a weak thumbs up. “She’s good,” he choked out. He twisted a bit to be able to meet her gaze. “I think she’s back.”

Natasha nodded, feeling confused but so, so relieved to see Tony. She crawled over to him, pulling him into her arms and giving him a tight hug.

“Jeez, fuck, I’m still tender after that ass-kicking,” Tony said with a laugh, returning the hug. He could see Gamora’s hands twitching at her sides, her body completely tense, just waiting to spring into action if Natasha so much as breathed the wrong way.

“She’s back, Gamora, she’s good,” Tony reassured, letting go of Natasha. He was just about to introduce the two to each other when the rain stopped and the wind died out, the clouds completely vanishing as if they’d never been there, basking everything in the orange glow that surrounded the place. “I think that should be proof enough that she’s good,” Tony shrugged.

Gamora wasn’t looking at him anymore though. She was looking at something above them in awe, her mouth slightly agape.

Tony and Natasha followed her line of sight, seeing the imposing cliff face of the mountain that rose behind them, giant and imposing, the only thing on the horizon.

“I was right,” Gamora whispered to herself, her eyes still on the mountain. “We’re on -”

* * *

 

“Vormir,” Clint breathed, eyes focusing on Laura who was kneeling right in front of him.

“Clint, are you okay?” she asked, hands flitting over him, eyes running over his face. “You started crying, and when I asked you weren’t responding.”

He touched his face, feeling the fresh tears there. Clint nodded, putting a hand on Laura’s cheek. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He took a shaky breath, mouth set into a determined line. “I know where they’re at.”

Laura put a hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. He didn’t have to finish for her to know what he was referring to. “It’ll be dangerous, won’t it?” she asked instead.

Clint’s silence was answer enough as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. “But I’m going to come back. I always do.” He gave her a soft smile. “Now I just have to bring back the rest of the family. The kids have been without their Aunt Nat for too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed a fucking Steve/Bucky reunion like fuck Endgame they should have killed me instead of letting me see the fuckfest they made of the MCU in Endgame and honestly Nat had to come back because fuck that noise I ain't about it she can't be taken down like that
> 
> also, I gotta fucking book it to make sure I finish all of this before July 5th, when Far From Home premiers. Your girl's got a lotta work to do before then, and I hope you guys all stick around for the ride :) catch you guys in a few days, once classes let up again!


	9. Whispered Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three souls awakened and many souls touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I hope you guys like this chapter, I think we're tipping past the halfway point of the first part of this series, so let's fucking boogie bitches

It took maybe an hour to fill everyone in on what Steve had seen in his nightmares, about how he’d kept seeing Tony in some strange, lonely place. The entire time everyone was giving him their full attention, collaborating details about this desolate place, about how they seemed to see it when it was raining. They weren’t sure exactly what they were seeing, but they all came to the conclusion that they were seeing  _ something _ . Nothing else could explain why they had all seen the same thing.

Steve leaned forward in his seat, dropping his gaze and putting his hands on the back of his neck. “After all this - after just seeing him so many times in my sleep, I can’t believe that he’s actually gone.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, clearly on the verge of tears. “I wish I’d just handled things better, that I’d apologized -”

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. “Don’t,” Bruce said softly. “We can’t let guilt cloud us, we can’t let it get in the way of thinking clearly to figure this out.”

Hope stepped forward, setting her hands on the table. “Just to get this straight though, none of us have every physically seen this place outside from our dreams?”

There were nods around the table, an affirmative answer to her question.

She drummed her fingers, squinting her eyes as her expression glossed over a bit as if she were seeing right through them all. “That definitely drops the chances for a coincidence down by a significant margin. But it could be a shared psychosis.”

Scott shook his head, hand at his chin. “What if instead of a psychosis, it's a shared link between all of us? Like when you add people to a phone call?”

“A shared link?” Steve asked, lifting his head.

“Yeah, like -” Scott frowned, thinking about how to phrase his idea. “Okay so, you see Tony,” he said, referring to Steve. “And everyone else here has seen Natasha - maybe it's because it's the people we feel strongest about. They’re the base, and we’re the ones getting linked straight to them.”

“So our feelings are linking us to them, not to the place,” Bucky said, his expression unreadable. “It would explain why Steve’s now seeing something different from what he had been seeing for so long at first.”

“And maybe what we’re seeing in the quantum realm is the actual place where they’re at, even if it's not appearing on our sensors,” Hope finished, her gaze back on them as if she were refocusing on the present.

Sam leaned back in his chair. “It’s as good an explanation as any,” Sam admitted and raised an eyebrow at Scott, “Good job.”

Before he could hear Scott’s response, Bruce’s phone rang. He answered it without looking, his mind running with everything that they were talking about.

“Vormir,” a breathless voice on the other line said.

“Excuse me?” Bruce asked, his train of thought coming to a halt. “Clint, is that you?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he said. “They’re on Vormir.”

“Vomir,” Bruce repeated, the conversation around him dying down. “What do you mean, who’s on Vormir?”

“Nat, Tony, and Gamora,” he rushed out. “I saw them, they’re on Vormir - they’re with the Soul Stone, and I need to get to you guys so we can go get them out of there.”

* * *

 

Tony sat on one of the sand hills, his fingers gingerly prodding at his tender nose as he watched Gamora stare out intently at the mountain.

“Sorry about that,” Natasha said again, bumping her shoulder to Tony’s.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quipped, waving her apology away. “I’m just glad I found you.”

Natasha sighed, letting herself drop backwards and lay down. “Same here.”

They were quiet for a while until Gamora trudged back to them, the gash on her cheek from her fight with Natasha finally having stopped bleeding. “We need to get to the top of the mountain.”

“That does seem like the next thing to do, doesn’t it,” Tony said, not at all enthusiastic about that prospect. “Hopefully we don’t find anything else up there aside from a way out of here.”

“I doubt it’ll be that easy,” Gamora commented as she crossed her arms, giving a sideways glance at the cliff face as if waiting to catch it off guard and learn something new about it.

There was a dark look in Natasha’s eyes as she stared up at the mountain, a tightness to her lips and an undercurrent of fear in her features. She shook her head, trying to physically shake off the memory that had surfaced. “Might as well just go -” Natasha started, when they heard a breathy whisper.

“ _ Vormir.” _

Natasha jumped to her feet, eyes wide as she scanned everything around them. “Tony, did you -”

“ _ Who’s on Vormir? _ ” a second whisper, faint but unmistakable.

“Bruce?” Tony asked, rising to his feet as well.

“ _ We can go get them out of there _ .”

“And Clint,” Natasha said, turning to Tony with tears in her eyes. “Do you think they’re looking for us?”

Gamora took a step towards them. “Who’s looking for us? Who are we hearing?”

“Our friends,” Tony answered, a smile spreading on his face, “The Avengers.” He put a hand on Nat’s shoulder, an unshakeable faith growing in his chest. “They’re going to get us outta here.”

* * *

 

Steve and Bucky found themselves in a quiet corner of the interim headquarters a couple of hours later, in a small office space on the third floor. After the call with Clint and the quick dispatch of a quinjet manned by FRIDAY to go get him, Steve had felt anxious with pent up expectation as the idea that they would be making a rescue mission soon began to become more and more apparent with each passing second.

However, right now Steve felt useless, all of his reporting on what he’d seen already finished and done with. He hadn’t even been able to tell them about Vormir as he’d dejectedly told them that as soon as he got close to the planet the Soul Stone had vanished.

“Just like that,” he’d said. Frustration had made his voice quake. “And after it disappeared, I don’t know I - I had a bad feeling about landing on the planet.” Steve had dropped his head in shame. “I never even saw the surface.”

He didn’t like not being able to do anything more to help, hated that the only thing he  _ could _ have helped with he’d backed away from in the moment. Waiting was driving him up the wall, so he’d quietly excused himself while Scott, Hope, and Bruce talked shop, and Sam went off to try to contact others and see if anyone else had been “linked” to their teammates on Vormir. He was just glad Bucky didn’t let him go off on his own.

“What do you think of the stuff Scott and Clint are pitching?” Bucky asked, his eyes on the expanse of forest that extended behind the compound.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I think it's the only lead that’s making sense right now. We might as well go into it and see where it takes us.”

Bucky nodded but didn’t say anything. Steve glanced over at him, taking in his best friend. He looked tired, but calm, a soothing quiet rolling over him and seeping into Steve. It helped unwind the knot that had been in Steve’s chest for as long as he could remember, letting him breathe easier and making the tension ebb out of him.

Before he could overthink what he would say and before he lost his nerve, Steve turned to Bucky. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

He looked at Steve, shifting so that he was facing him. He gave him a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You just wanted to be happy, Stevie. I can’t hold that against you.”

“But I -” he took a deep breath, the look on Bucky’s face almost knocking him over. He knew he was the reason for that look. “I wasn’t happy,” he got out, his eyes dropping to the ground. “I thought I would be, but I wasn’t.

“What made you realize that you weren’t?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet, so, so quiet it made Steve meet his eyes.

The words were right there, right on the tip of his lips, the truth in its most raw and vulnerable form ready to tumble from him, to fall into Bucky’s hands. But Bucky’s eyes made his heart stutter in his chest. They were soft, unbearably soft, a look that felt like a gentle caress across his skin. His grey eyes were on him, searching his face.

“Retirement just didn’t sit well with me,” Steve breathed, referring to Bucky’s first words to him when he saw him in the lab earlier.

There was a shift in Bucky’s gaze, tiny, imperceptible to anyone but Steve, but it made Steve’s heart pound faster in his chest. Even as he was scolding himself for his lackluster answer when there was so much more for him to tell Bucky, they both stepped towards each other, Steve’s hand finding Bucky’s easily.

Bucky looked down at their joined fingers, the beginnings of a blush dusting his cheeks, when there was a knock on the door.

Steve jumped with a start, immediately taking a step in front of Bucky as Sam poked his head past the door.

“Clint just got here. Thought I’d come get you two before any of the serious planning started,” he said, his eyes flicking to their joined hands before he smiled and ducked out of the room.

“We should -” Steve began.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

Steve gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, not letting go as they made their way back to the lab.

**...**

“I saw the mountain,” Clint was saying as Steve and Bucky walked into the lab. Clint stopped, staring at Steve in surprise, finally letting himself believe he was back once he saw him in the flesh.

“Took you long enough to return those stones,” Clint finally said.

Steve ducked his head. “Yeah...sorry about that.”

Clint rolled his eyes, waiting until Steve and Bucky got close enough to clap him on the shoulder. “Damn, man, at least we don’t have to go rescue your ass, too.”

The joke managed to make everyone laugh, easing the tension in the room by a noticeable degree. “Clint, where were you five years ago when we were first dealing with Thanos?” Steve grinned, wiping at his eyes.

“Under house arrest for helping you run away with your man,” Clint cheekily answered as Steve turned scarlet, his verbal shots hitting their mark just as good as his shots with his bow.

“Don’t forget I was there, too,” Scott grumbled from where he stood by Hope.

She rolled her eyes. “We all know how you helped Cap, Scott. No one’s forgotten that.”

Just hearing them laugh and tease and bicker and feeling Bucky’s warm hand in his helped pull together Steve’s fraying edges. This felt like a step in the right direction, like a path to getting everyone back to this, to being a team - a family, again.

“So what’s the plan?” Bucky asked, getting right to the heart of things as the jokes died down.

Bruce pulled up a hologram, showing the planet of Vormir that Nebula had told them about months ago. “Clint was telling us that in all his dreams, he felt like he knew the place, but he just kept writing it off -”

“I thought it was survivor’s guilt,” Clint said, his face dropping. He crossed his arms, the posture looking more like a shield from the world than like a stern stance. “I thought I kept seeing her because I hadn’t been able to save her, that I had let her die.” He swallowed hard. “And then Bruce called - and I still thought it was just guilt, just all of us feeling shitty about someone we couldn’t save -” The image of Nat’s broken body at the bottom of the mountain flashed before his mind’s eye, “- and that it was bleeding into our dreams.”

He paused as Bruce gave him a quizzical look. “What made you change your mind?”

“I saw them, Bruce. I was awake this time, and I saw them,” Clint answered, meeting his gaze. “Natasha, Gamora,” his eyes flicked to Steve, “And Tony.”

“You were awake?” Sam asked slowly. “So, like what, you had a vision? Some  _ That’s So Raven _ shit?”

Clint snorted out a humorless laugh. “More or less, except it wasn’t like I was seeing the future.” He tapped his fingers on his arm. “I talked to her, man. I called out to her and I know she heard me.”

There was silence that blanketed the room.

Scott raised his hand hesitantly, unsure whether he could speak or not. Steve noticed and nodded at him to say what was on his mind.

“We heard you too, a few times,” he told Clint.

“Bruce told me about that,” Clint sighed, averting his gaze to the floor before he turned to Bruce. “Sorry for being difficult instead of hearing you out.”

“I think I would have reacted the same way, if I’m being honest,” Bruce shrugged. “So you think what we see in our dreams is what’s happening where they are in-real-time?”

“Unless there’s some time shit that’s also going on while we sleep, yeah, I think it’s pretty close to in-real-time.” He rubbed his temple, “I don’t even want to consider this being more complicated than it already seems to be. Just considering this possibility is leaps and bounds out of my area of expertise.”

“Well, it's a good thing we’re a team. I think combined we can handle whatever this turns out to be,” Sam said. “Besides, the cavalry’s coming,” he grinned. “We’re going to get them back.”

Clint nodded, feeling the hope he’d been keeping at bay start to swell within him. He looked around at their group, then sat down tiredly. “Well, until the cavalry gets here, I think we need to sit tight for a while. I doubt any one of us has the deep space piloting experience that could get us out to Vormir fast enough.”

* * *

 

_ “The cavalry’s coming _ .”

Tony couldn’t stop grinning, the whispered conversation of their friends slowly drifting away as if carried off by the wind. “They’re coming to get us,” he repeated in disbelief.

Natasha looked equally as ecstatic, but she quickly sobered. “We died though - all of us. I don’t think it's a case of picking us up and taking us home.”

_ Home _ . The word felt like soft sunlight was shining down on him, making its way into the coldest parts within him and warming him from the inside out. Home, back to Pepper, Morgan, Peter, Harley -

“She’s right,” Gamora said, bringing Tony back from his reverie. “Besides this - this doesn’t look exactly like the planet Vormir.”

“It seems like a reflection,” Natasha added. “I’ve been here too, to the planet, I mean and,” she looked around, “it was darker, with tons of clouds in the sky. It wasn’t this perpetual dusk that seems to be going on here, like the sun just set.”

Gamora nodded. “Vormir is dark, with just enough light to make it seem like it was always on the verge of the sun rising.” Gamora’s eyes darted to Natasha, “Like it was always dawn.”

Tony was silent, his mind mulling over what they were saying. Then seemingly out of the blue, he asked, “What color is the Soul Stone?”

“Orange,” Natasha said after a second. She glanced over at Gamora, “I kinda had a chance to see it in action after Thanos got it the first time around.”

He stood up. “Kinda like this color, right?” he pointed out, waving his hand at the landscape around them. He could see the understanding dawn on them.

“We’re in the stone,” Gamora said. “We were put into the stone after we paid the price for it.”

Although it was what he had been thinking, that still made Tony frown. “I didn’t pay the price for it, though.”

Natasha and Gamora exchanged a look, one that even Tony could read, but instead of letting them go down that rabbit hole Natasha discreetly steered the conversation back to their revelation.

“But Thanos destroyed the stone,” she reminded him. “How can we be in something that no longer exists.”

“Excuse me, he did what?” Gamora growled, looking from Tony to Natasha and back. “How the fuck do you destroy something as strong as an Infinity Stone?”

“Wanda Maximoff did it,” Natasha answered, then, when she saw the look of confusion on Gamora’s face, added, “she’s an Avenger, too.” Natasha sighed, “But then Thanos used the Time Stone to put the stone that Wanda had shattered back together.”

Tony nodded, “Exactly. It was shattered.”

Natasha and Gamora watched Tony, not sure where the beginning of this thought was going.

He looked out at the mountain. “These things are too powerful. I think they can be shattered, but not completely destroyed. Given enough time, I think they’d reform on their own.”

“So, the stones are at their weakest state right now,” Natasha said, catching on to what Tony was saying.

“The boundary is blurred,” Gamora breathed. She looked at the two of them, suddenly so damn excited she almost pulled them into a hug as she broke out into a disbelieving grin.

“If there’s ever a chance to get us out of here, now’s the -” Tony started, when a usually loud voice very quietly called out his name.

“Tony Stark?” they asked, drawing the attention of Tony, Natasha, and Gamora towards the newcomer who had apparently appeared out of thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my boy Steve's a real piece of sad work ain't he? plus, Scott is such a sweet bby I love him and fuck man I just want them all to get home already I'm in physical pain every day that passes since having seen Endgame my life has not known peace, actual snakes have manifested in my home and I have to fucking cleanse this fucking fast  
> @ Russo Brothers that movie was an attempt on my life and I'm coming for y'all
> 
> anyway, enough of the rants, i'll catch you guys next chapter!


	10. Breath of the Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visions abound, feeling closer and closer every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the longest chapters so far, and y'know I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Also, even though I posted yesterday, I forgot to say, Feliz Dia de las Madres! All my chapters this weekend are dedicated to my mom, I love her so much and I'm really glad I was able to come home again this weekend to spend it with her. I know she ain't gonna read this but hey she knows I'm writing it and she's being really supportive! Te amo, ama!
> 
> I hope you guys catch the small itty bitty motherly moment in this chapter, it lowkey made me sad to include it but oh well :)

It wasn’t surprising for Thor to find himself standing outside of Mantis’ door, hesitant to knock as his body ached from his need to sleep.

Sleep had been hard to come by since the Snap, since his failure in stopping Thanos. It had gotten easier when he tried to numb that feeling, tried drowning it in so much liquor he was sure it would have killed an entire Midgardian army.

Losing himself in the alcohol hadn’t been as hard as he had originally thought it would be, but with Valkyrie as a drinking partner and his own high alcohol tolerance, he hadn’t even realized when he’d started downing liquor daily by the barrelful until he found himself alone in his hut in New Asgard, Korg and Miek being his only remaining company.

Even Valkyrie hadn’t stuck around, not having wanted to see her friend’s descent into destruction. He vaguely remembered her having tried to get him to slow down, to lessen his intake, but he’d just laughed at her concerns, throwing himself headfirst into his unhealthy coping mechanism. He had dived right into the alcohol, and he hadn’t resurfaced for years, letting it consume him, letting it drown him as it drowned his sorrows because he  _ was _ his sorrows.

Thor had lost his sense of purpose. He had failed his people when Asgard fell and they were slaughtered by Thanos. He had failed his family when his mother had been killed by the Dark Elves, when his father slipped away, when Loki had been murdered by the Mad Titan. He had failed his friends when he was gone for so long, not getting back in time to turn the tide sooner. He had failed the universe when he hadn’t killed Thanos when he struck him with Stormbreaker.

He had failed himself when he let everything crash onto him, crushing him beneath the weight of it all, leaving him a husk of his former self, a reclusive hermit that only saw the light of day when he went to restock his liquor stores, a sloppy drunk that cared more about his next bottle than of what was happening around him.

Remembering how low he’d been brought down made his skin burn with shame.

But this was how he was making up for that, he reminded himself. He was out here, with the Guardians of the Galaxy, guarding the galaxy. He was helping people, helping the universe he had failed before. Helping his friends he had failed before, as they made their way to Earth to, the unrealistic idea that somehow the nightmares they were all sharing meant something, meant that there was some chance at finding their lost friends. Helping himself grow to believe in himself once more.

And even though he would never admit it to anyone, it also helped that he was running away from some of the people who had seen him at his worst. Everyone on the ship, except for Rocket and Nebula, were essentially strangers to him. Over the last few months they’d become a functioning team, but still, they felt more than acquaintances but less than friends - except for Rocket and Groot.

He could admit, however, that after going back and seeing his mother again, making his peace with her death despite the pain he was feeling, making his peace with having lost Jane, and realized that despite all of this, despite his depression drowning him, he was  _ still _ worthy. The feeling of Mjolnir’s hilt in his hand, the familiar heft and perfect balance of his hammer, the way it had responded to him, flying into his grasp - that had been the burst he needed to break to the surface and breathe in lungfuls of acceptance without a tinge of self-loathing or resignation.

Thor had accepted himself. He hadn’t resigned himself to being what he was reduced to, he had accepted where he was, and now he was fighting to get better.

That had been proving to be an uphill battle, especially when he’d quit drinking. He had let himself decrease his intake, the Guardians all helping him quit his addiction in whatever way they could think. Rocket was always ready to shoot and shock him if he drank more than his diminishing allowance for the day, Groot would hide the bottles within his branches, essentially goading Thor to rip them from him or leave them be. Quill and Drax would drink the liquor before he could get to it, and Nebula would challenge him to sparring exercises to keep his mind occupied and to help him polish his fighting techniques. Mantis was the one he went to most often though, since her empath ability could manipulate his feelings of withdrawal, giving him a sigh of relief whenever she used her power on him.

All of this, while helping him in his alcoholism, hadn’t helped curb the nightmares. Drinking so much the first few days had helped muffle the dreams, kept them at bay, just a hazy shimmer that he forgot come morning. But now, with his meager flask being the only alcohol he was allotted before even that portion was decreased, the nightmares had turned more vivid, so real in his mind he felt like he could feel the watery surface lap against the soles of his boots.

It kept him up, made him avoid sleep even as his body craved it desperately, aching to rest and regain strength after another long day on the ship. He squared his shoulders. Even if he didn’t want it, he need it. Thor knocked on Mantis’ door, knowing she would be the only one to help him sleep.

She opened her door, giving Thor a sad smile as soon as she saw him. “I can just help you go to sleep as soon as we’re all getting ready for bed, you know,” she said.

Thor scratched at his beard, avoiding her gaze. “I know I - I just want to keep trying. I can’t rely on you forever, despite how many times I come asking for help.”

Mantis patted his arm, both of them falling into the familiar walk to his room. “While I’m glad to help, I do believe you’ll be able to do it, Thor.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, feeling like he would never be able to put into words how thankful he was to hear encouragement that he couldn’t even muster for himself some days.

They walked into his room, Thor quickly tucking himself into bed. Mantis sat on the edge and put her hand on Thor’s forehead, her antennae beginning to glow softly as she said, “Sleep.”

Thor was briefly reminded of his mother, tucking him in and letting sparks of magic fly above him as she helped lull him to sleep, before everything around him faded away, Mantis and his bed and his room just dropping off, leaving him suspended for a brief second before he was on his feet again, the wind knocked out of his lungs from the sudden movement.

He was breathing harshly, his hand at his chest as he looked around, instantly recognizing where he was, and just as quickly recognizing the three people talking and looking over at the imposing mountain on the horizon.

“Tony Stark?” he whispered in disbelief. Tony, Natasha, and Gamora turned to him, and Thor felt his breath leave him, this time in a sigh of relief. “Valhalla above, you’re alright.”

His eyes took Tony in, running over the right side of his face, of his right arm. It was unmarred - save for a couple of scratches - the way it had been before he’d taken the Infinity Stones and used them. Tony was looking at him equally in awe, completely shocked to have him there.

Gamora was the one who broke the silence, taking a confused step towards Natasha and Tony, putting herself between them and Thor as she suspiciously asked, “Thor? Is that you?”

Thor nodded mutely before he broke into a giant grin, talking as quickly as he could. “You guys can see me! You guys can see me!” He laughed, the sound loud and out of place in the vacuum they were in, but just as contagious as it had always been.

Natasha fought a smile, schooling her expression as she turned to Gamora and Tony. “Do we trust it's him?”

“Of course it's me!” Thor shouted, taking a few steps toward them before stopping when Gamora shot him a warning glare.

“He doesn’t look the way he did when I met him,” Gamora said, her eyes never leaving Thor.

“Five years of booze can do that to you,” Tony explained.  He gave them a rueful smile, “Trust me, had it not been for the Avengers Initiative after Afghanistan…” He let that thought trail off.

That reference to Tony’s captivity years ago jostled Thor from his joy, remembering the stories of how they had searched for him to no avail. Thor wasn’t going to let their search now end in vain, not now when he was right here, with them.

“Where are you all? What is this place?” he asked quickly.

Gamora, still looking suspiciously at him, cryptically answered, “It seems we’re on the planet where the Soul Stone is kept.”

Thor nodded, “That’s what Nebula seems to believe - we haven’t given up on you all.”

Tony felt his heart swell with hope. It was one thing to overhear the faint whispers of his friends, to know they were still trying to find a way to get them back. It was another to hear it directly, from a friend that was back home.

“I don’t know how things are here, but just stay safe,” Thor said, taking in their minor injuries. “Just wait a little longer, we’re on our way, we -” Thor cut himself off, feeling a tug at the back of his mind, a pull that made him feel like everything was fading around him.

Natasha, Gamora, and Tony ran to him, trying to reach for him but passing right through him. “Thor! What’s happening?”

“I’m waking up,” Thor managed to get out. He willed himself to stay with them for a few seconds longer. “We’re coming for you, I promise, we’re -”

Everything disappeared, leaving Thor in absolute darkness. He was still standing, the feeling of solid ground beneath him being the only indication of that. Before he could even gather where he was, a voice behind him simply said.

“I told you the sun would shine on us again, brother.”

* * *

 

Tony watched as Thor disappeared, his words still ringing in the silence that followed. His arrival had been so unexpected, but so, so welcome for so many reasons.

“Well now we’ve heard it straight from the God of Thunder himself,” Natasha said, crossing her arms as she smiled. “They’re coming to get us.”

Gamora couldn’t help the small smile of her own. “And him being here did prove that we are right, they can find a way in.”

“And if they can find a way in,” Tony continued, his brain firing at a million miles a second, “we can find a way out.” He ran a hand through his hair, tears at the corners of his eyes as he started thinking about everyone back home again. “We can go home.”

Natasha threw an arm around him, patting him on the back. “We’re going home,” she agreed, then she looked up at the mountain, her expression faltering a little. “But I think we still have to make our way up there.”

“I think so too,” Gamora sighed. Neither of them looked happy about it, and Tony knew it was because that was where they had been made to sacrifice themselves - where Natasha had taken the plunge and where Gamora had been murdered.

The dread Tony could feel prickling his skin sobered him, and, wiping his eyes, he took a step towards the mountain. “Well, we already said it before - this won’t be easy.” He shrugged, keeping his voice steady. “And I think we’re all about damn ready to get out of here.”

Gamora’s troubled expression turned into a wry grin. “It’s not like whatever’s up there’s going to be able to kill us.”

Shaking her head, Natasha let out a quiet laugh as she fell in step beside them. “If anyone could manage to die twice, I think it might actually be us.”

The three of them couldn’t help but laugh at that, knowing that as it stood they had nothing more to lose but everything to gain as they made their way to the mountain.

* * *

 

“Loki?” Thor asked, his voice breaking.

Lifting his arms from his sides, Loki gave him a confident smile. “In the flesh - or well,” he dropped his arms. “Not in the flesh at the moment, I’m reaching out to you while you’re sleeping.”

Thor opened his mouth, but Loki beat him to it, already knowing the question he was going to ask.

“Yes, I’m alive,” he said.

Seeing Thor’s eyes narrow into the all-too familiar glare that he always gave him whenever Loki had pulled a particularly harsh prank on him, Loki immediately got defensive.

“I wasn’t trying to fake my death again -”

The glare was now accompanied by a disbelieving frown.

“Okay, so I did, but it’s a long story, and I’ll tell you all about it,” Loki rushed out. His smile turned sheepish. “I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

Thor popped off a small button from his robe, throwing it at Loki. It passed through the mirage, a light green shimmer.

Loki sighed. “I am alive even though I’m not exactly real right now since this is a dream. I’m three jumps from Midgard though, so I’ll be getting there as soon as I can get this stupid ship up and running again.”

“You’re going to earth?” Thor asked, finally speaking again.

He nodded, ringing his hands almost nervously before freezing their movements, regaining his composure. “I keep seeing Stark, the Black Widow, and Thanos’ daughter on some foreign plane of existence. I figured you all were looking for them.”

“I just saw them, too. I talked to them, told them we were going to get them,” Thor said. Then, he broke into a teasing smile. “You’re going to help us.”

“No,” Loki denied quickly, his hands balling up into fists. “Why would I ever help you Avengers?”

“It wasn’t a question,” Thor smirked, crossing his arms. “You’re coming to help us.”

Loki crossed and uncrossed his arms, then glowered at his brother. “Fine, whatever, yes, I’m going to help. You all seem to need all the help you can get at any given time.”

Thor laughed as he shook his head. “We’ll go get you. We’re four jumps away from earth.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Loki asked, eyes narrowing.

“Some new friends,” Thor answered.

“Gods, I can’t say I’m excited to meet whoever else you’ve managed to befriend,” Loki said as he rolled his eyes. He waved his arm, his exact coordinates dropping into Thor’s head. “Don’t take long, I might change my mind about helping.”

* * *

 

Thor sat up immediately, startling Mantis who had just pulled her hand away from him.

He reached for her hand, his smile so bright that it made her worry even more.

“What happened, did I do it wrong, did I -” Mantis began, her apology already on the tip of her tongue.

“No,” Thor grinned, climbing out of bed. “No, everything is great, everything is -” He pulled her into a quick hug, pulling away but leaving his hands on her shoulders. “Mantis, thank you. When you put me to sleep, I talked to them - I saw Gamora and Tony and Natasha, I talked to them!” He paused, catching his breath and giving her a gentle squeeze. “And I saw my brother, he’s alive.”

Mantis was nodding along, trying to keep up. “But you were only asleep for a second.”

“It was more than enough,” Thor assured her. He let go, heading for his door. “Now let’s go before Quill wakes up. We have to make a stop before we go to earth.”

* * *

 

T’Challa had been pleased to see that Wakanda had been strong enough to continue in his absence. Okoye and the remaining council members had been able to keep everything running as smoothly as possible, making T’Challa’s return and everyone’s readjustment to those who had vanished go without a problem.

But T’Challa was having personal problems after coming back. He was distant, often lost in thought, his mind preoccupied by things that he didn’t feel like talking to others about. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust those around him, but because he felt that what he was dealing with wasn’t something he should bother others with. It felt silly, like when he would get a nightmare and he would ask to stay in his parent’s chambers. He was king now - he couldn’t be hiding behind his mother’s skirts every time he had a bad dream.

And it had been almost every single night since he’d come back. He knew it had to do with having been a casualty of the Snap, but he couldn’t understand why. He didn’t know where the dreams took place, or why he was seeing people he knew had died.

Which is why he was in the ruins of the garden of heart-shaped herb, approaching the shaman as they tended to the small amount of herbs that they had been tending throughout the past five years as they tried to bring the garden back to it's full fruition.

“My king,” the shaman said, bowing her head as he approached, the other garden keepers following suit with similar murmurs.

T’Challa bowed his head as well. “I come to commune with my ancestors. I seek guidance in the aftermath of these trying times.”

She straightened, giving him a knowing smile. “We’ve been expecting you, my king. The stars have been speaking to us about your search for advice.”

He ducked his head, feeling embarrassed that maybe they knew what was bothering him.

The shaman didn’t mention anything more as she guided him to the pit of sand where he was to be buried. The assistants quickly helped T’Challa change into the proper ceremonial attire, anointing him with the ritual oils and placing the necklaces on him. He laid down, listening to the shaman prepare the herb, crushing it in the mortar. She approached him, lifting her arms above her, offering the herb to the heavens.

“Allow the heart-shaped herb,” she began, kneeling down beside him and putting the bowl to his lips, “to take you to the ancestral plane.”

T’Challa drank without hesitation, feeling the purple liquid slide down his throat and immediately blossom inside of him, spreading throughout his entire system.

“Bast, we call on you, to help guide our king to the guidance he seeks,” the shaman finished. T’Challa’s vision was already going black, but he could feel the faint sensation of the sand covering him, the shaman and her assistants chants growing more and more muffled as the seconds passed.

He saw his father, overlooking the kingdom. He saw his sister and his mother and Nakia, so relieved that he was alive. He saw N’Jadaka, dying in front of the sunset. He saw Okoye, getting back to her feet after having been knocked down in their fight against Thanos. He approached her, going to help her up, then everything disappeared and shifted and suddenly he was standing on water, Bast staring right at him.

“My -” he began, before his voice failed him, as he dropped to one knee in reverence. The panther watched him, her dark eyes scrutinizing, looking through him as she took him all in. T’Challa didn’t dare move, his eyes on the ground, watching the panther through her reflection in the water.

The goddess breathed, and a voice filled his head, ancient and knowing and warm and powerful.  _ My Champion. _

T’Challa finally dared to look up, watching as the panther took a few steps to close the gap between them. The water rippled with each step she took, rings floating and extending throughout the still water.

Trying and failing to talk again, T’Challa could do nothing other than watch. She came to stand right beside him, looking down at him before turning her gaze to something behind him. Slowly T’Challa stood, turning around and seeing the three lone figures walking past them.

It was his dream, T’Challa realized. It was Tony, Natasha, and the other woman. But now - he felt the goddess stir, moving to circle behind him, as if waiting for him to make a move - he knew it was more than a dream. Bast was showing him the guidance he was searching, validating what he had been seeing for so long.

She breathed on him, warm and primal, the sound echoing around them.

Tony turned their way.

* * *

 

Thor anxiously paced back and forth, hands fidgeting with the yaro root he was holding. He had decided to stay on the ship while Rocket and Nebula boarded the quinjet that the coordinates had led them to. He hadn’t wanted to board himself, hadn’t wanted to see that this had all been a fluke, that it was just an overactive imagination and displaced feelings about knowing that the others may still be out there.

He could hear Rocket grumbling as they reboarded, followed by an annoyed huff from Nebula. Then he heard him.

“Of course my brother would keep a raccoon for company.”

“Call me that again, pal. I don’t care if you’re Thor’s brother,” Rocket growled as he pushed Loki forward with the butt of his gun.

They came into view, turning in from the boarding bridge that had extended from Quill’s Milano to the quinjet. Thor could only stay rooted to the spot, his arms dropping at his side. Even though he’d seen him in his dream, had heard him say he was still alive, seeing him in person was wholly different.

“Hello,” Loki said, catching sight of Thor and stopping in his tracks.

There were only a few more beats of silence before Thor tossed the root at him. It hit his shoulder before clattering on the ground, and Loki had just begun to scowl in annoyance when Thor quickly closed the gap between them, pulling Loki into a crushing hug. “Fucking hell, Loki, I thought you were dead.”

Loki patted Thor’s back hesitantly, unsure of how to react to his brother. “And I guess I technically was, for a while, but I’m not.”

Thor pulled away, tears running freely down his face, finally letting himself cry over having his brother back. Finally, finally accepting that he was truly back. Then he punched.

“I can’t believe you’re alive - I saw you die, Thanos  _ killed  _ you,” he said, now growing extremely annoyed with Loki. “I mourned you, I cried for you,” he told him, an intense sense of deja vu washing over him.

Loki couldn’t help but smile at that. “I’m honored,” he quipped, and just like that, just like all the other damn times Loki had died-but-not-died, that he’d faked his death and come back, just like that, Thor knew things would be okay.

That didn’t mean Thor was going to be happy with Loki about having him go through that all over again. “I should throttle you for letting me believe you were dead for so long.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I missed you too,” Loki said, the smile still on his face. And it was the truth. Loki had truly missed him. “I had every intention to go help with the fight against Thanos, but then I got turned to dust along with half the universe, so it's not like I didn’t actually die.”

“Whatever,” Thor said, crossing his arms. It felt good to be able to bicker with him like this, to fall into it so easily. It reminded him of their youth, of the long days of fighting and playing and watching each other’s backs. It reminded him of how things had started to return to this easy pattern after Asgard fell and they had started their journey to earth.

“I am Groot,” Groot said, having watched the entire exchange from down the hall.

“Yeah, Groot,” Rocket agreed, shaking his head. “These guys do have issues.”

Nebula walked past them, picking up Rocket by the back of his jacket. “It’s just how siblings are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me so long to bring my boy in this shit, Thor hunny, every time lightning strikes and thunder booms, Imma pour one out for you boo
> 
> Did y’all catch the ragnarok throw back though? I just feel that every single time that Loki “dies” Thor reacts the exact same way, like boy’s been dead in almost every Thor movie of course this shit is just normal for the Odinsons. Shout out to Mr Taika Waititi for being the only real one in the movie business and blessing us with Ragnarok, fuck everybody (Russo Brothers) else, I respect you
> 
> Also, T'Challa bby, I missed you and I'm so glad I finally roped you into this, Shout out to Ryan Coogler, man also deserves all the praise for Black Panther
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I'll catch y'all next time!


	11. Breaking the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unexpected visitor on Vormir, and plans to visit a newfound family for some ice cream and burgers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mothers Day! Ama te amo!
> 
> Yeah so this chapter lowkey may have made me cry, like idk it just got to me while I was writing it and I ended up hurting my own feelings :( I promise Imma fix it though ! I hope you guys like it and that you guys figure out what hurted as you guys read :'(

“King T’Challa?” Tony asked, confused but relieved. Natasha and Gamora followed his line of sight, seeing the lone king standing about a dozen yards away from them. He was alone, just watching them, a giant shadow looming behind him.

It’d been a while since they’d seen Thor, and while they were surprised to see the Black Panther, it was still nice and reassuring to see a friend - although the darkness that surrounded him was unsettling and made them nervous.

“What are you -” Natasha began to ask, but then the shadow disappeared, seeping into T’Challa and he sank into the water, as if it’d swallowed him whole. It was nothing like how Thor had left.

They walked over, feeling more than a little worried as they picked up the pace. The only thing that even hinted to the presence of the king was the ripples that were still ringing out from where he’d stood, the water turbulent there in a way it hadn’t been anywhere else.

“I don’t like that it's doing that,” Gamora said, watching the water with a hint of apprehension. “Who was that man? Why did we see him?”

Natasha stared hard at the water, as if willing it to be still again. “He’s a friend from earth.” She thrummed her fingers on her thigh. “And I don’t know, but something tells me this was a little different.” She looked up at Tony. “I don’t think he was asleep like Thor was.” They were silent for a few beats before she turned away. “We have to keep going.”

No one argued with that as they reluctantly set off again, glancing over their shoulder at the ripples still ringing out from the spot.

* * *

 

Peter smiled down at his phone, the picture that Harley sent him of Morgan making a funny face brightening his day. It’d been another rough one, but at least the panic attack during school had only lasted a dozen minutes and he hadn’t missed too much of his history class. Ned had given him the notes he’d missed without question, like he’d been doing almost every day since they got back to school.

He felt bad that his panic attack at Ned’s house had been much longer, the anxiety crawling up his chest and leaving him unable to breathe. It had taken both MJ and Ned to coax him out of the bathroom, and after watching some stuff on the internet surrounded by his best friends, he’d been able to gather himself enough to make the trek back home on his own. They’d offered to go with him, but he didn’t want to be even more of a burden than he already was. He needed to get with the program, get better already so he could go start helping people again.

Sniffling, Peter had furiously rubbed at the tears already welling in his eyes. He couldn’t even fucking help himself, how did he ever think he’d be able to help others again.

Then had come Harley’s text.

**Cant wait to hang out tomorrow** , Peter texted back.

He switched to the group chat he had with Ned and MJ, sending a picture of himself flashing a peace sign inside his front door.  **Home** , he sent along with it. He tried to ignore the red rimming his eyes, the shiny gleam they had in them. He had to at least act like he always did. Fake it til you make it.

Trudging into his room, Peter flicked on his lamp, kicking off his shoes and collapsing into bed. His phone buzzed, and a quick glance told him it was a snapchat notification. He opened up it, seeing a short clip of Morgan.

_ “Can’t wait to see you, too!” _ she exclaimed.

The camera flipped, showing Harley, who was recording.  _ “She keeps saying she’s going to take us to the best ice cream place in New York, it’s all she’s been telling me about since I got here from Tennessee.” _

Morgan squeezed into frame.  _ “It  _ is _ the bestest place! And they have really good cheeseburgers there too!” _

Looping back to the beginning of the video, Peter watched it one more time before going back to his texts.  **I’ll call as soon as I’m up so we can plan our day then** . He hesitated for a second, then tacked on a  **:)** before hitting send. He locked his phone, setting it down on the bedside bureau.

Although Peter hated sleeping, dreaded sleeping, he was just so, so exhausted. He’d seen him today, in the crowd of people as he walked to school, in the reflection of the deli window, in the shadow down the hall at school. Every single time it hurt just as much as it had the first time.

He turned his head, catching sight of a picture of them he had sitting beside his computer. “Everywhere I go, I see your face,” Peter whispered, his voice breaking. “I just really miss you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears falling down the sides of his face. “I really, really miss you.”

It wasn’t the first time Peter had cried himself to sleep, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

 

T’Challa walked down the palace halls, an urgency to his step. “Okoye, just make sure to tell my Queen Mother to take care of everything while I am gone.”

She clicked her tongue in disapproval. “My king, I do not agree with this idea you have - going off to find the Avengers, to tell them what you’ve been seeing - and I will not be telling the Queen Mother, she will scold me to the Ancestral Plane and back for letting you go off like this.”

He wasn’t deterred. “It was a direct message from Bast herself. Ignoring something like this would be unwise, if not worse.”

Okoye sighed. “I know. Which is why, even though I do not agree, I will be going with you.” She gave him a fond smile. “I will not be letting you out of my sight again, my friend. And that way I don’t have to inform the Queen Mother about this - I’ll send word with the Dora Milaje.”

T’Challa laughed. “I’ll definitely be seeing my ancestors sooner rather than later when she gets done with me.”

“Now that, I do not doubt. When do we leave?” Okoye asked, already sending out a message on her kimoyo beads.

“As soon as possible,” T’Challa answered. “Please make sure the Dora Milaje also inform Nakia about this.” He shuddered. “Bast above, if Mother doesn’t kill me, Nakia sure will.”

They kept walking, talking about preparations for their trip and making plans for how long whatever this turned out to be might take. They were so consumed in their planning that they never noticed they were being followed.

It was about damn time her sneakers were put to good use.

* * *

 

No matter how far they walked, it seemed like they couldn’t get any closer to the mountain - they kept walking and walking, but found themselves once again at the turbulent spot of water, the spot where T’Challa had disappeared into. It had been the third time it’d happened.

“So something tells me we can’t get to the mountain,” Natasha dryly pointed out.

Gamora crossed her arms. “Seems like it.” She looked down at the water. “And that’s still happening.”

They watched it quietly before Tony crouched down beside it. He observed it closely, watched the little whirlpool that seemed to be forming and dissipating, twirling and fading, almost like -

“I think it's a drain,” Tony said quietly. “This - it's like a drain is trying to form, trying to pull on the water.”

Natasha and Gamora were beside him in an instant, watching the vortex with bated breath as it formed weakly before it was scattered again.

“This is just from that king being here?” Gamora asked, her voice edging between skeptical and awed.

“Blurred boundary,” Tony explained with a shrug. He thought for a second, before rolling up his sleeve. “And I’m about to see what I find in this sucker.” He put his hand into the water, feeling no resistance - which made it strange that they could walk on it, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that much since whatever, they were  _ dead _ in the Soul Stone for Christ’s sake, everything here was so fucking weird - and then the water got thicker, like molasses, but still he went in, getting up until his elbow.

“Give me a hand?” he asked, reaching out for them. 

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Stark,” Gamora said, grabbing his other arm as he kept going, helping him keep balance.

Natasha smiled already knowing what his answer would be.

He flashed them a smile, “Don’t need to know what I’m doing. I’ll figure out what to do no matter what.”

* * *

 

Peter was drowning. It was the same terrible, twisted nightmare, always trying to reach the surface but never getting there. Only now he was completely alone. The body had been gone since a handful of nights ago, there one night and then gone the next. He didn’t know why, but seeing that the body wasn’t there anymore had made him feel unbearably lonely, a deep ache in his chest that made him want to sob.

But he couldn’t, because he was drowning.

He kicked towards the surface, his chest constricting with panic as he felt the breath being crushed from his lungs. He thought of the time the Vulture had tossed him into the river, the frantic and desperate struggle to untangle himself from the parachute that had been quickly becoming his funeral shroud. He remembered Iron Man going in and rescuing him - Tony rescuing him from across the globe. Peter felt the vice of panic and desperation mingle with grief.

Tony wasn’t here to save him now.

Continuing in his frantic struggle and choking down a sob, Peter almost missed the arm that was reaching into the water, a literal helping hand. Without hesitation, Peter reached out, grasping the forearm. The hand grabbed him too, holding tight and hauling him out of the water.

He broke the surface, crawling on his hands and knees as he coughed up water and gasped for air, breathing in deeply. He shook violently, shook so hard he felt like he was going to fall apart.

A gentle hand on his shoulder steadied him, making him look over at who saved him.

This time he couldn’t help it. The sob broke his lips as he said his name, flinging himself into his arms.

* * *

 

May walked out of her room, looking for her phone as it rang loudly from the kitchen. She picked it up, noticing Harley’s smiling face on the contact picture. Peter probably forgot his phone here, she thought as she answered.

“Hello?”

“ _ Aunt May! _ ” Morgan sang through the phone. “ _ Is Peter with you? We’ve been calling him but he hasn’t answered.” _

“Really, now?” She said, leaning against the kitchen counter. She glanced over at Peter’s closed bedroom door. She knew Peter had been planning on going out with them this weekend, and had already thought he’d left. “What time were you guys supposed to be meeting up?”

There was shuffling, then Harley was on the line, Morgan clearly having handed the phone over to him. “ _ He was supposed to call us when he woke up, so we could decide if he was going to meet us or if Happy was going to pick him up after he dropped Pepper off at the compound, but we haven’t heard from him yet.” _

May shook her head. This kid. “He’s probably still asleep,” she explained. “I’ll get him up and send him your way. It’s always nice to hear from you, Harley.”

“ _ You too, Mrs. Parker. I’ll be sure to come around as soon as I get settled at Columbia,” _ Harley said, then, a shout from the background.

_ “Tell Peter I said hi and that I can’t wait to see him!” _

“Will do, kiddo,” May laughed. “I’ll make something extra special when you guys come visit. You kids take care.” They said their goodbyes and then May hung up.

After everything, after coming back and losing Tony and then reaching out to Pepper, Peter had kept a steady relationship with the Stark-Potts family. Granted, it had only been about three weeks, but he had already been over three times, and had been texting Harley Keener since even before then, the two boys having grown close in their pain from losing Tony. He had become a father figure for both of them, and it hurt like losing a parent all over again once he was gone.

May hadn’t been even a little surprised when her nephew had started frequenting the Stark-Potts household, especially after getting to know Morgan a little more. In the handful of video calls that Peter had had with Morgan and that May had made a guest appearance, the little girl had stolen May’s heart.

Overall, she was just so glad that Peter had people outside of her that cared for him, people that he was getting out of bed for in the morning, that helped him work his way out of his grief.

Some days were just harder for him than others, and today might just be one of those days. She went and knocked on his door gently.

“Hey, Pete, Morgan and Harley are looking for you. Just wanted to see if you were awake to at least shoot them a text,” she said.

There was no response, not even a sleepy groan or a jumble of incoherent groggy ramblings to tell her he’d even heard her. He had always been a light sleeper, even more so after he had been bit and became Spider Man.

She knocked again, a little louder, not sure why but feeling dread pool in her stomach. “Peter, honey, I’m coming in, okay?”

Slowly, she turned the knob, pushing the door open. Sure enough, there he was, still in his school clothes from the day before. His breathing was slow and even - he was definitely asleep. Her expression softened as she crossed the room. She sat on the edge of his bed and ruffled his hair.

“C’mon sleepyhead, time to get up,” she cooed.

Nothing. Not even a twitch of his face to indicate he’d felt anything.

“Peter?” she repeated, shaking him slightly. He didn’t move at all, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. She shook him harder, an edge of worry bordering on panic in her voice, “Peter?”

He wasn’t waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I had to do this on mother's day May :(( and yeaaahhh the part that hurt my feelings was just Peter realizing that Tony wasn't there to save him like he had when the Vulture tried drowning him, like idk man that shit just fucking hurted it cleaved into my soul and caught me hella off guard :((
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! I'll catch you all next time!


	12. Physically Here but Spiritually There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is split, with one foot back home and the other some place else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuuck guys I've been writing as much as possible today, getting as much done on my train ride back to school and finally finishing it now at my apartment. Needless to say, I'm beat, but I couldn't keep y'all waiting after last night's chapter!
> 
> Also, ya girl was hella about break down in tears on the train, my sticky boy is apparently my weakness :((
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

The plan was simple. Go to Vormir, get them back, come home. Simple.

Clint tiredly ran a hand through his hair. Simple, simple, simple. He looked around the lab, watched as Hope and Scott looked over schematics with Bruce, saw Sam, Steve, and Bucky going over materials and make contingency plans.

Simple, simple, simple.

He tapped his fingers on the table, not swallowing his own lie for a second. This was going to be anything but simple, they all knew it, but pointing it out would do nothing other than lower their morale, and they could use all the hope they could get if they were to actually figure this out.

The Soul Heist, as Scott so appropriately dubbed it, was definitely a tall order even for them - but they were going to do it. If their roles were reversed, Clint knew Nat would never give up on him.

Besides, now that they had Pepper on board, they couldn’t back down. Pepper had been skeptical, hesitant to latch onto the glimmer of hope they had, but in the end she had let herself believe.

“Don’t let this get out, please,” she’d said, looking around at the group. She slowly rubbed her wedding ring. “I can’t have anyone coming to ask me how I feel about this, how I’m handling this new -” she pursed her lips, years of damage control and handling media outlets for Tony and Stark Industries surging back “- ‘development.’” Then she crossed her arms, finally allowing herself a small smile. “But if he comes back, I don’t care who finds out or what happens. I’ll have everything I need with him here.”

“When,” Clint had said. He remembered how sure Nat had been that they could bring own his family back after the snap. “When he comes back, we’ll be right there to help juggle the media circus.”

Pepper smiled, giving him a curt nod. “When he comes back,” she agreed.

Clint chewed on the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure why he was so certain, but he was. Nothing was going to shake him from this. They were going to bring them back.

**…**

It was late afternoon when Happy called. Bruce wasn’t surprised to get his call, thinking that maybe Pepper had asked Happy to get some more information on what they were planning to do from the team. They’d only been there for about an hour or two that morning before they went back home. Pepper had looked exhausted, the overload of plans, theories, and ideas and the emotional rollercoaster having taken its toll. Bruce was sure Tony would smack him when he found out they’d told Pepper about everything and made her worry about him again.

“Hey, Happy,” Bruce answered, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he made some minor modifications to Falcon’s wings.

“Doctor Banner, it's the kid, I need your help,” Happy rushed out.

Bruce put the microlaser down, straightening up. “Did something happen to Morgan?”

“No, no - she’s with Pepper, she’s fine,” Happy quickly explained. There was a tremor to his voice that betrayed he was close to tears. “It’s Peter.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t possible. Tony couldn’t believe that it was possible. But there he was, shaking and coughing up water, trembling so hard Tony thought he was going to unravel and crumble away right before his eyes again. The thought made him immediately reach out and place his hand softly on his shoulder as tears began streaming down Tony’s face.

He looked over, his eyes red rimmed and puffy, the bags under his eyes showing that he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in months. His eyes widened as he took Tony in, his lip quivering.

“Tony?” Peter sobbed out, and suddenly he was in his arms, holding onto Tony like his life depended on it. His fingers dug into his shoulder blades, grabbing onto Tony’s shirt, his head buried in the crook of his neck as he sobbed incoherently.

The tears running down his face came faster, the lump in his throat growing as he held Peter. “Yeah - yeah, it’s me, Peter,” he choked out, hugging him close, running his hands soothingly up and down his back.

Peter nodded into his shoulder, his grip never loosening. “I miss you so much. I miss you so, so much.”

“I -” Tony began, then stopped, taking a ragged breath to try and control the shake in his voice. His hold on Peter tightened, squeezing him reassuringly - desperate to convey what words alone could never completely explain. “Peter, I miss you too.” He kissed the side of his head, right on the temple. “So, damn much. I’m sorry I had to go.” Tony let out another shuddery breath, his throat constricting on his tears. “I’m so sorry.”

They could do nothing other than cry as they held each other. It felt like they stayed like that forever, Peter’s sobs ringing out in the silence, their jumble of words being the only thing that pierced through the tears.

Peter’s sobs slowly subsided, hiccups and shuddery breaths the remnants of his tears. He didn’t let go though, and neither did Tony.

A hesitant hand running through Tony’s hair startled him, making him jump in Peter’s arms. He looked up, seeing Natasha standing beside them, a stray tear rolling down her cheek. Peter glanced up too.

“Hey, Peter,” she smiled at him, moving to pat Peter’s head.

Peter rubbed at his eyes sheepishly with one hand, his other one still firmly holding the back of Tony’s shirt. “Hello, Miss Black Widow,” he said quietly, his voice cracking. “I-I didn’t know you would be here.”

Tony was still rubbing Peter’s back as he gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean, kid?”

He averted their gaze. “I’m dreaming,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “This is all just a dream, you’re not really here - and when I wake up, you -” he bit his lip, trying and failing to keep it from trembling. “I’m going to be all alone again.”

“We’re really here,” Tony said, holding onto Peter’s shoulders and making him look at him. He shook him gently. “Peter, we’re -” he paused. He couldn’t say that they were alive when he wasn’t sure what they were, but he knew they weren’t just a figment of Peter’s imagination. “- real,” he finished. “I’m real, Peter.”

He shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. “I’ve seen you so many times since you,” he choked on his next word. “You  _ died, _ Tony. I saw you die!” He was trembling again, his tears coming hot and fast, his hands balled up in his lap. “I keep seeing you all the time and it feels like I’m losing you all over again  _ every single day _ and I can’t do this!” He stopped, realizing that he’d started shouting. He let himself fall forward, leaning his forehead against Tony’s chest. “I’m just going to lose you again when I wake up.”

“You’re not -” Tony began, at the same time that Gamora chimed in, “You’re not dreaming.”

Peter turned to see Gamora standing behind him, unshed tears in her eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Peter. Tony’s told me a lot about you,” she said.

“H-hi,” he answered, a little startled to see someone new. His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve seen you before but I’m really bad with names.”

“Gamora,” she said with a nod.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know you would be here, either.”

“Peter,  _ you’re  _ the one who’s here,” Tony said. He rubbed at the tears that were still falling down his face, trying to get himself together for Peter. “We’re trying to get home, but I don’t know how you got here.”

“I’m dreaming,” Peter repeated. “I fell asleep in my room and had the same nightmare I had every night, where I’m drowning.” He sniffled. “It made me think of the Vulture and how you sent Iron Man to get me out, and - and it hit me all over again that you were gone.”

“Oh, Peter,” Tony whispered, pulling him into an one armed hug, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

Peter ran a hand over his face, catching the stray tears before they rolled down. “Then you pulled me out,” he finished, giving Tony a watery smile.

“I’m always going to be here to rescue you, kid,” Tony grinned, his eyes just as glossy as Peter’s.

“So dreams are a way to get in,” Gamora mused, her gaze shifting from them to the now calm water. “That’s how Thor got here, and maybe how that king was here, too.”

Natasha nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she thought. “But what about the things we’ve been hearing? I don’t think they’re having those conversations in their sleep.”

“I think it's like they’re closing in, almost as if they were homing in on us,” Gamora said. “The more they talk about this place, talk about us, think about us,” she looked at Peter. “The closer they get.”

* * *

 

Stephen stood in front of the large circular window of the sanctum, watching the bustle of New York City’s evening life. It’d been a quiet day, just him and Wong and the Cloak of Levitation.

They’d gone to breakfast, where Stephen had barely picked at his food - again - before coming back for the rest of the day. Wong had retired to the library, leaving Stephen to his meditation. Stephen hadn’t been able to clear his mind enough to be able to meditate though. It’d been the third day in a row he hadn’t been able to do it.

Sighing, he crossed his arms. His hands were trembling, like they usually were, but right now it just made him feel vulnerable and weak. He didn’t need to have that salt rubbed in the wound of his inability to focus.

The sun had just started to set, and Stephen couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d watched the sunset. He couldn’t help but think of Tony and the mirror dimension. He hadn’t let himself leave the prime material plane since.

He was still watching the setting sun when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, noticing that it was Doctor Banner.

“Always a pleasure to hear from you, Doctor Banner,” Stephen said politely as he answered.

Banner cut right through the pleasantries. “Strange, we need you to come to the compound, please. Something’s wrong with Spiderman, he’s - he’s -”

Turning away from the window, Stephen began walking down the stairs as he began to open a gate with the Sling Ring, his casual clothes changing into his signature Sorcerer Supreme attire, with the Cloak of Levitation quickly finding its way to him. “What happened to Peter?”

“We don’t know,” Bruce answered, clearly worried and frustrated. “He’s been to the hospital, and they found nothing. I had him brought into my lab, and still, nothing. There’s nothing medically or scientifically wrong with him, we can’t find -”

Stephen crossed through, coming to stand in the middle of the lab, seeing Peter on an examination table and Banner nervously hovering beside him, the steady beeps and blips from the various machines hooked up to Peter showing that he was in a stable condition.

“- the problem,” Bruce finished, his eyes wide as he took in the sorcerer who was now right in front of him.

“Let me take care of things from here,” Stephen said, already having hung up his phone and shoved it in his pocket as he crossed the handful of steps to Peter’s lifeless body.

* * *

 

“So, I’m really here?” Peter asked slowly after Tony, Natasha, and Gamora told him everything they knew and what they thought was going on.

Tony nodded with a smile. “Yeah, kid, you’re really here. You’re not just dreaming.”

He threw his arms around Tony, this time crying with joy. “Mr. Stark, I promise I’m going to get you back, I promise, promise, promise I’m going to bring you back home.”

“What happened to being a friendly, neighborhood Spiderman?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve been to space,” Peter shrugged. “Besides, I’m an Avenger now, Mr. Stark. This is definitely something for the Avengers.”

“You called me Tony, earlier, you know,” Tony pointed out, his smile widening.

Peter pulled back sheepishly. “I was emotional,” Peter explained, a slight embarrassed flush rising up his neck.

“Was?” Tony teased. “You still seem pretty emotional to me.”

Natasha lightly smacked Tony on the back of the head. “You’re one to talk, I’m sure that your crying alone has added about an inch of water to this place.”

Tony turned and shot her a playful glare. “You wound me, Romanoff.”

Gamora laughed at the exchange, letting herself get pulled into her new friend’s happiness. It was contagious.

Peter let out a shaky laugh too as he slumped against Tony’s side, the exhaustion from his tears getting to him now that relief was coursing through him rather than grief. “I’ve missed you so much, Mr. Stark.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Peter,” Tony said. He leaned his head against Peter’s. “But I’m coming home. I promise.”

* * *

 

Stephen stood beside the examination table, reading over the charts and tests that Peter had undergone, double-checking and cross-referencing them with the results from the hospital and the results Doctor Banner had gotten, and now with the final round of tests he had run. He just had to make absolutely certain that it wasn’t something that could be explained normally. And it sure wasn’t.

He set the chart down.

“I’ll be meditating in the Astral Dimension,” he explained to Bruce, who had managed to keep the lab relatively empty except for May Parker and Happy Hogan so that he could observe and take care of Peter without anyone bothering them. He turned to them, hoping that he looked and sounded confident and reassuring. “I’ll figure this out.”

May nodded, swallowing hard before quietly saying, “Please?” Her eyes shone with tears.

“I will,” he repeated. He sat in the chair that Banner had set beside the examination table, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He had to get his shit together for Peter. He had to focus on that, focus on him, to clear his head and make the shift.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Inhale, exhale.

Everyone was relying on him to help Peter, to figure out what’d gone wrong.

Inhale, exhale.

Tony wasn’t here for him, someone had to be here for Peter when he needed help.

Inhale.

Peter needed him.

Exhale.

Stephen opened his eyes, the glow of the Astral Plane evident as he looked down at himself. He glanced over at Bruce, May, and Happy noticing that despite them being firmly in the prime material plane that they also had the soft glow to them. He turned to Peter, and his heart dropped.

Nothing was there. Peter was laying there, but he was empty. No glow, nothing - his spirit, gone.

Even here, in the Astral Plane, Stephen felt his hands shaking. “Peter?” he whispered, standing from his place and going over to him.

It was still the same dull emptiness.

He reached out to touch him, his hand going right through him like he knew it would. “C’mon Peter, you’re alive, everything says you are but you’re -” he tried to calm his thundering heart, hearing his increasing heart rate even as he stood away from his own body, “- gone.”

Stephen ran a hand over Peter, looking for something, anything, some kind of clue that would lead him to an answer. Then he saw it, the brief orange glow on his shoulder, the glimmer along his back. Like a touch of light, gone in a blink.

Moving in closer, Stephen focused on that light, searching for it until he found a tiny pinprick in his chest. It was the only sign of life in Peter. He had to figure out what it was.

He slowly brought his trembling hands to the light, his fingers brushing against it, and blinked out of existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the ending, but its the best place to end it for now, I promise. I guess its a little obvious that I'm a sucker for the Supreme Family huh? But, exploring that further will be left for another fic.
> 
> Honestly though, I can't imagine Peter or Tony letting go of each other, I mean c'mon both of them have seen each other die and it has left them traumatized as fuck. Irondad and Spiderson all the way, I love them so much and I'm so happy I was able to finally bring them together for this chapter!
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading ! I'll catch you guys as soon as classes let up again!


	13. Same but Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen finds Peter, and another band of heroes finally finds the gets to the compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know I'd hurt my feelings but I did :(
> 
> Anyway! Here's chapter 13, this arc is closing up real quick

They had lapsed into a few seconds of silence, no words needed to reiterate how happy they were to have each other again. It felt nice, having Peter there with Tony without a war waging on or being on death’s door (he didn’t think this counted, exactly). It made Tony all the more excited to go back home.

Natasha and Gamora were off to the side, discussing ideas and their thoughts on what exactly this could all mean. They were giving Tony and Peter space. No one knew how long Peter was going to be staying for.

It wouldn’t be for much longer, it seemed.

From near Peter a hand shot up out of the water, and grabbed onto the front of his shirt, the fingers holding on tightly and almost dragging Peter into the water.

“Fuck,” Tony shouted as Peter was yanked down with a startled cry. He put his arm in front of Peter’s chest and grabbed the hand that was holding him, pulling it up and out like he’d done when he’d felt Peter grasping his arm.

Tony scrambled back, feeling Natasha and Gamora already at their side, pushing Peter further behind him and pulling the body out of the water. He instantly recognized the ridiculous attire.

“If it isn’t Harry Potter,” he said, taking in the sorcerer shakily getting onto his hands and knees.

“We’ve been over this, I’m not a wizard, I’m a sorcer-” Stephen began, shooting Tony an annoyed glare before the expression disappeared. “You’re dead,” he breathed, his grip on Peter’s shirt finally loosening.

“Clearly I’m not,” Tony shrugged, letting go of Stephen’s arm and sitting back. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m still kicking.”

Stephen shook his head, slowly standing up. “No - I-I saw you die. I saw you die  _ multiple _ times, Tony.” His hands were trembling as he balled them into fists, his voice breaking in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “I saw you live and die and I saw that this was the only way we’d win but you had to  _ die _ . We couldn’t -  _ I  _ couldn’t save you.”

Tony stood as well, raising his hands hesitantly and taking a step towards Stephen. “This wasn’t your fault, Strange.” Seeing Stephen so obviously distraught was not only alarming but it also drove home just how deeply  _ everyone _ had been affected by the war against Thanos. “This was our only chance at winning and now we even -”

“I was able to outsmart an interdimensional monster but I couldn’t even think us out of what Thanos did,” Stephen said through gritted teeth. “I died over and over and over again, but seeing it happen, seeing you do it again and again and again I -” he cut himself off, refusing to let himself break into tears. 

He was the Sorcerer Supreme for crying out loud. He had to keep it inside. Stephen closed his eyes. “I was wrong about you. I was wrong about you, and it's haunted me for 14,000,605 timelines.” Stephen’s voice shook, growing quieter and quieter. “And if I finally let myself admit that you’re not dead, that you’re out there - out here - and that  _ I  _ didn’t see it, that I failed at saving you  _ again _ .” Stephen took a slow breath, finishing on his exhale, “It’s too much.”

There was silence at that as Stephen stood to the side, breathing heavily, his eyes still closed as if to block everything out. Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug that startled him into looking down at the shorter man that was suddenly in front of him.

“Didn’t know I meant so much to you, buddy,” Tony teased lightly as he patted Stephen’s back. He pulled away, tapping Stephen’s shoulder. “I’m surprised, honestly. I didn’t know you would be taking all of this so hard.” He gave Stephen a sad smile. “A bit of advice though? Don’t. This wasn’t your fault, we all did whatever we thought was for the best.”

“Is anyone going to tell me who the fuck this is now?” Gamora finally cut in from where she was with Natasha and Peter. She had put herself between them and Tony and Stephen, her stance tense and ready for anything.

That seemed to pull Stephen together. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and blinked back his tears as he stepped forward, giving Tony a reassuring pat on his arm and outstretching his hand towards Gamora.

“Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme and Master of the Mystic Arts,” he introduced himself.

Natasha stepped closer to Gamora, her arms crossed. “Natasha Romanoff.”

Gamora took his hand hesitantly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Gamora.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve heard the name before. Daughter of Thanos - the woman Starlord and the Guardians were looking for.”

“Star- you know Peter?” Gamora asked, dropping his hand.

“I know him, too,” Peter said quietly from behind her. She glanced over at him, her eyes immediately going back to Strange. “Doctor Strange was with us on Titan when everything happened.”

Hearing Peter’s voice made Stephen’s head snap over to him, looking past Gamora. He stepped up to him, quickly taking him in to make sure he was in one piece, his hands hovering at his side unsure how to react exactly.

He finally settled on just telling him what was going on. “I’m here to bring you back.”

Peter looked surprised, glancing from Doctor Strange to Tony. “Bring me back?”

Stephen nodded. “Peter, you’re -” he wasn’t sure how to word it, since there weren’t necessarily any scientific or medical terms that covered exactly whatever this was. “You’re in a coma, for all intents and purposes.”

“In a coma?” Tony asked, going pale. “But - but he said he was asleep.”

“I am,” Peter insisted. “I just went to bed, I haven’t been here for more than an hour, maybe two.”

“It’s been almost a full day,” Stephen said. “Your aunt found you this morning - we can now only assume this started when you first fell asleep and got to this point after you ended up here. Time - it looks like time here works a little differently.”

“But then how did you get here? Aren’t you asleep too?” Peter pressed.

“I’m in the Astral Dimension,” Stephen explained. “They asked for my help because they couldn’t figure out what was wrong and you just,” he paused. “You weren’t there. I reached out to you and wound up here.” His expression then got even more serious. “But we need to go back now. The longer you’re away from your body the harder it is to get back to it.”

“Then that means we can take them back with us too!” Peter exclaimed. “We can bring you all home.”

Tony couldn’t help the surge of excitement that ran through him, but it was immediately doused as soon as he saw the expression on Stephen’s face.

“It’s not that easy, Peter,” he said quietly, tentatively. “We have bodies to go back to and they -”

“Don’t,” Natasha finished for him. She had already run that train of thought through since they’d encountered Thor. They would never be able to escape with them because they didn’t have bodies to return to.

Stephen sighed. “They don’t,” he agreed. “Gamora and Natasha’s bodies were left on Vormir and Tony - Tony’s body was burned out by the stones,” Stephen miserably concluded.

“I would just die again,” Tony said quietly. Stephen’s silence was answer enough.

It dragged on for a few more beats before Stephen spoke up again. “We will come get you all though,” he said, turning and looking at Gamora, Natasha, and Tony. “We know you’re here, and we’re going to get you. I promise.” He then turned to Peter. “But we have to go, Peter. Staying for longer is risky, especially for you.” 

Peter shook his head, taking a step towards Tony and reaching for him. “I don’t want to go.”

“We have to,” Stephen said. “If we don’t you -”

“Not without - I -” Peter looked at Tony imploringly, his eyes shiny with tears again, holding onto Tony’s arm tightly. “I don’t want to go, Mr. Stark.”

Tony felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. They’d been here once before.

But this is different, Tony reminded himself. This will end differently.

He pulled Peter into a hug. “I know, Peter. I don’t want you to go either.” Tony tightened his hold on him, closing his eyes. “You’re the reason I fought to bring everyone back. And now I’m going to fight to go home. I’m going home, okay? Just like I promised.”

Tony glanced at Stephen and gave him a pained look, soundlessly mouthing  _ Take care him. _

Peter held Tony tightly. “I just don’t want to lose you again,” he said, voice breaking.

“You’re not, Peter. You’re going to be right there back home, waiting for me with Morgan and Pepper and Harley,” Tony continued. He moved his hands to Peter’s arms, still holding him. “We’re going home, but you have to go first,” he finished, closing his eyes and pushing Peter away from him.

Stephen caught Peter and held him tight even as the teen struggled against him, focusing back on his connection to his body and the prime material plane. The water shifted beneath their feet, pulling them under. They vanished, leaving Tony, Natasha, and Gamora alone once again.

* * *

 

It was as if they had been shot out of a gun. They were suddenly back in the lab, and Stephen was catapulted right into his body just as Peter sat up on the examination table, gasping and shouting, looking around in confusion.

“Peter! Peter!” May exclaimed, standing up from where she had been sitting beside his bed.

“I-I have to go back! Mr. Stark - he was there!” Peter said frantically, moving to stand.

Bruce was immediately at his side, putting his hands on his shoulders to keep him sitting. “Peter, please - hold still, you could hurt yourself, you’re hooked up to a lot -”

“What - you actually saw him? Where was he?” Happy asked, crowding around Peter.

Stephen stood. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs space.” He looked pointedly at Happy. “No questions right now, please, Mr. Hogan.”

Happy took the not so subtle hint, settling on merely patting Peter on the back. “Just, calm down, okay kid? Doctor Banner will get all that off of you.”

Peter was still breathing heavily, seemingly on the edge of a sob. His Aunt May pulled him into a hug, and he buried his face into her shoulder as Bruce carefully removed the IV drip and started peeling off the electrodes that had been monitoring his heart. Stephen watched, torn between wanting to comfort Peter and wanting to immediately round on the Avengers and demand that they take him to wherever the hell Tony and Natasha and Gamora were so that they can bring them back.

He had begun to turn towards the door, already making up his mind, when he saw that Peter had turned to face him. He was still gathered up in his aunt’s arms, but Stephen could clearly see the dejected glare he was giving him. It was a look of defeat and exhaustion, full of pleading. Stephen shook his head.

“Not now,” he said quietly. He knew Peter would hear him.

Stephen turned around and left the room.

* * *

 

“Tony, please, everything’s going to be okay,” Natasha reassured him, her hand rubbing back and forth across his shoulders consolingly as he shook against her.

“I didn’t - I couldn’t - I wanted to tell him, but I  _ couldn’t _ ,” Tony wept. “Peter, he - I -”

“He knows,” Gamora said, looking down at where he’d fallen to his knees after Peter and Stephen disappeared. She gave him a sad half smile. “Besides, you’ll tell him when you see him again. When we’re out of here.”

Taking a shaky breath, Tony nodded. “Y-yeah,” he agreed, wiping at his cheeks. “When we’re out of here.”

* * *

 

Stephen stepped out of the lab and into the hallway, catching sight of Steve’s back as he was leaning against the doorway that led to the makeshift conference room. He strode over, stepping past Steve none too gently. He thought he had seen him in the lab when he’d first arrived, but now, seeing that it was actually Captain Steve Rogers, he felt irritated. First turning on Tony then running out on the team and now he’s back? Stephen had to make a conscious effort to seem completely in control of his emotions.

“I’m telling you Hope, if I shrink small enough I can squeeze into his ear and get to his brain. It’ll be like making a Nintendo 64 game work again, I just gotta blow on the cartridge,” Scott loudly whispered.

“That’s not how people work, Scott, that’s not going to work,” she scolded under her breath.

It was heartening and a little amusing to hear Ant Man and the Wasp having a heated conversation on how to seemingly help wake Peter, but Stephen was glad he came bearing good news. “He’s awake,” Stephen said simply.

Sam stood from his seat at the table just as Clint got off his perch on the armrest of another. He could already see that they were about to make their way for the lab, so he side stepped to intercept them.

“I think it’d be best if he just rested for now. He’s got his Aunt and Happy and Doctor Banner watching him. He’s okay,” Stephen assured.

The tension in the room ebbed away at that. Bucky slumped in his seat and the tense line of Steve’s shoulders sagged in relief. There was a quiet mutter of, “Thank fuck.”

Stephen crossed his arms, his expression turning frustrated. “I’m assuming from Happy’s reaction to Peter’s admission of having seen Tony,” he raised a hand to cut off anyone who was about to interrupt him, “That you all know something about this.” He gave Steve a pointed look. “I want to know what the fuck is going on and what we’re going to do to get them back.”

Steve opened his mouth, about to explain, when suddenly FRIDAY chimed in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got company.”

Everyone jumped to their feet at that.

“What do you mean we’ve got company? How many are we talking?” Hope asked, looking out the window discreetly.

“Three ships. One’s ten seconds to landing and another is about ten minutes until it's on us. The third is heading in this direction and an hour away, but it may be just flying past,” the AI informed them.

Just then they could hear faint music.

“ _ See how the sun shines brightly in the city _

_ “On the streets where once was pity-” _

“What the - is that -” Sam began, his pocket knife halfway out as he readied for a fight.

_ “Mister blue sky is living here today, hey hey -” _

Stephen could see out the window from where he stood. He saw the ship land, the ship’s hatch immediately opening up. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The music was louder now.

“ _ Mister blue sky please tell us why _

_ “You had to hide away for so long -” _

“Looks like our ride’s here,” Clint grinned, spotting Thor amongst the group that had disembarked.

_ “Where did we go wrong?” _

“The Guardians of the Galaxy,” Stephen sighed. “Of course they’re a part of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephen feels so guilty about not saving Tony, like damn that's something I didn't think I'd flesh out here but it happened because idk, perfectionist Stephen Strange probably does stay up late at night going over every single time line to see if he missed something and well :((((
> 
> Also, the song the Guardians land to is Mr Blue Sky by ELO, from Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2, so y'know gotta incorporate some of the jams here, cheer up the blue atmosphere
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are Godsend and greatly, greatly appreciated :) See you all next time!


	14. The Cavalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While some assembly was required, it seems like everyone's joining up. The cavalry is ready to ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's the next chapter! My fingers are shot from writing so much, but we're on the last stretch of part I here, and i'm already working on what comes after this arc is over! I'm not going to keep you guys waiting, I'm sticking to my promise of having this done before Far From Home!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“Good, great - you all know what’s going on. That saves me time from explaining everything we’ve been seeing,” Peter Quill nodded. He had his arms folded over his chest, the nervous energy radiating off him since they’d stepped into the compound five minutes ago. “But we’re leaving. Now. With or without you.”

“Now?” Scott asked, looking a little flushed. “We’ve been talking about leaving but that’s the extent of our plan. I don’t think leaving right this second will -”

“Vormir is far from here,” Nebula began, turning to Clint, then to Steve. “You both know how long it takes. The sooner we get to our friends, the better,” she said quietly, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “Any preparations can be done from inside Quill’s ship.”

There was a beat of silence, some shuffling around, then Sam chimed in, “How about we leave tonight? We’re all going,” Sam said, looking over at Scott who nodded without hesitation, “So that gives us time to make sure we have all our stuff, and any other prep can be done on the ship.”

“I am Groot.”

Peter sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he glanced over at Groot who had pulled on his jacket. “As soon as the sun sets,” Peter agreed. “We’re leaving. No later than that.” He turned around, heading for the door again. “I’ll be on the ship, making sure there’s enough room for all of you. C’mon, Drax, Thor.”

Drax, who had been leaning against the back wall, straightened. “Why do I have to go help you?”

“Because,” Peter said as he walked past him, “Rocket can help here, with machines, and Nebula and Mantis can fill them in on things they need for space. Groot stays with Rocket, and Thor’s -” he grimaced, “there’s enough people keeping on hi-” Their conversation faded away as they left the building.

Thor was already moving after them, patting Steve on the back from where he’d happily welcomed him back to the present and giving him and Clint a hesitant smile. “I’ll see you as we leave.”

“What’s this about leaving?” Bruce asked, coming out of the hallway with Happy. “FRIDAY told us the Guardians were here and -” He blinked once, twice, then he broke into a giant grin. “Thor? Is that you, buddy?”

He smiled at his friend, giving him a wave from across the room. “Bruce - always great to see you.”

“And I see you also brought Angry Girl,” Bruce noted, turning his smile to Valkyrie.

She regarded him rather coldly, giving only a curt nod. It was nothing like how she usually was with him, but he wasn’t going to press the issue now.

“Y-yeah,” Thor said with a laugh. “Thought we could use the help when we leave to Vormir.”

Valkyrie rolled her eyes, shifting in her stance to push off the wall she was against, walking after Thor and partially turned away from Bruce.

Bruce’s brow knit in apparent thought as he watched her, eyes narrowing as he seemed to make a few mental calculations. “So who’s going to be staying at New As-”

“The new compound, great question,” Thor cut in, not letting Bruce finish. He shot him a pleading look, one that said  _ I’ll explain later _ .

He watched Thor for a second before dropping it, turning with a shrug. “Yeah, what Thor said.”

“Wong and the other Masters of the Mystic Arts from Kamar-Taj can keep an eye on things around here,” Stephen said. “I’ll be contacting them right away.”

“And Tony left an Iron Legion,” Happy told them. “Pepper’s in charge of them. She can handle anything that comes this way.”

Bringing up Tony sobered the room as well as made them all the more ready to head out. It was obvious in the way that people were shifting and dropping their gaze, the twitch to grab a weapon. They were ready to go.

“Well, you all heard Quill,” Steve began, striding across the room. “We should be ready to leave tonight. We have to make sure we’ve done all the prep that needs to be done here so that we’re in our best shape for whatever we encounter out there,” Steve said, already at the doors that would lead to the outside. “And I think it’s a start to go out and meet whoever else is touching down,” he finished, the faint sound of an engine powering down reminding them that they had other visitors.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe I’m following you out to space,” Okoye scowled as she double-checked their Vibranium weapons cache and made the proper adjustments to T’Challa’s Royal Talon Fighter so that it could withstand space travel.

“You can return to Wakanda, Okoye,” T’Challa said again as he plugged in coordinates and helped with the adjustments. “But you know I have to go. Bast is with me, She wills it so.”

Okoye only sighed. She was doing that a lot with T’Challa. “I’m not going back without you. Like I said, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” She straightened, the dark blue hum of the engine showing that it was functioning within the proper parameters. “Besides, you need me. A foreign planet where we know not what to expect,” she gave him a wry smile. “Good thing we aren’t picking up Nakia. We don’t need you freezing out there.”

T’Challa frowned, answering with a quiet, “I never freeze.”

She laughed, patting her friend on the arm, missing the flash of a few panels on the monitors before the dark blue hum turned to a light blue.

* * *

 

After welcoming King T’Challa and General Okoye, Bruce headed right back to his lab, ready to gather what he’d been working on. Happy, Sam, Steve, Strange, and Clint were right behind him, having left most of their things on Bruce’s various work surfaces.

They stepped inside, seeing Peter Parker and his aunt sitting on the examination table, May holding Peter’s hand and Peter telling her something in a hushed voice.

“Is everything okay? FRIDAY said someone else just got here too,” he asked when the Avengers walked in. He paused, watching Steve with wide eyes.

He gave Peter a small smile. “Yeah, kid, I’m back. Just couldn’t stay away.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed as he took him in, before shaking his head - there was too much going on already, this shouldn’t even come as a surprise - and focusing back on his question. “Is everything -”

Bruce nodded, pushing up his glasses. “Yes, everything is fine. Our time frame just got pushed forward very quickly,” he explained, setting to finish the work he’d been doing on Sam’s wings.

“We’re going to be doing good on our promise to Tony,” Stephen told him, crossing over to Peter, looking him over with a critical eye to make sure he was truly alright. “How are you feeling?”

“Good as new,” Peter answered, hopping off the examination table. “So what’s the new time table?”

Steve picked up his shield, placing it on his back holster. “We’re leaving tonight,” he informed them.

Peter nodded, clapping his hands and rubbing them excitedly. “I can’t wait, I’m ready whenever you guys are.”

Everyone froze, slowly turning to look at Peter.

“What?” he asked.

“Queens,” Steve said, after sharing a quick look with Bruce and Stephen.His voice was low, “You’re not going.”

“Wait - no, no,  _ yes _ I’m going,” Peter rushed out, dropping his arms.

“You’re not, kid,” Sam agreed with a pained look on his face. “We can’t risk you getting hurt out there.”

“I can handle it,” Peter argued, his voice rising. “I can do it - I-I told Mr. Stark I would bring him back home!”

“And he told you to wait here, with his family, for him to return,” Stephen added, crossing his arms to keep the tremors in his hands from getting worse at seeing Peter grow so upset.

“But I promised -” he continued, until he felt a hand at his shoulder.

“Peter, please. They can handle it,” May said softly. “Please, Peter.”

He shook his head, breaths coming in shorter and shorter as he tried not to cry.

“Listen to your aunt, Peter,” Bruce quietly pleaded, dropping his gaze back to what he had to work on. “You know Tony would never forgive us if something happened to you. We don’t want to bring Tony back at the risk of losing you.”

“I -” Peter started, the sob in his throat cutting him off, the fight so obviously lost.

Happy patted his back gently. “Let’s go, kid. We’ll let the professionals take care of this.”

May slowly wrapped an arm around Peter, leading him away as he broke down.

“FRIDAY can drive you both back,” Happy said quietly. “I’ll take the ambulance and give you both some time alone.”

She nodded, pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple. It only made Peter cry harder. “I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry.”

* * *

They had just climbed in the car, watching Happy pull the ambulance out, when FRIDAY spoke up. “Where to, Mrs. Parker?”

“Y-you know where to go, FRID-DAY,” Peter got out, his tears slowing down, his voice hiccupping.

“Right away, Peter,” the AI said, turning on the car as they buckled in their seatbelts.

“Wait a second, FRIDAY,” May told her.

It was quiet as Peter avoided looking at Aunt May, who was staring at him intently. She reached out and took his hand. “You know they’ll bring him back, right?”

Peter nodded, sniffling, still refusing to meet her gaze.

“Bringing someone back from the dead is pretty hard,” she continued, with a squeeze. “Not exactly something that’s on everyone’s resume.”

He didn’t answer, only moving to rub at his eyes.

May wasn’t deterred, wanting to finish what she had to say before she lost her nerve. “And not everyone can say they’ve been out into space,” she said lightly, trying to keep her voice from breaking.

That made him snap his head up to look at her.

“I’ve been to space,” he hesitantly whispered, not daring himself to believe what she was getting at.

She nodded, putting a hand to his cheek. “You have.” Her eyes were shiny with tears. “And you snuck onto a spaceship once,” she reminded him, reminded herself. “You disappeared and I had no idea where you were, then we all got dusted.” Her voice broke. “Peter, I love you so, so much, you know that, right?”

“Aunt May,” Peter sniffled, leaning into her touch. “You know I love you, too.”

“And I’ll never forget it, just like I hope you don’t ever forget it either.” She pulled him close and kissed him on the forehead. “Now,” she continued, sitting back and giving him a stern look. “Don’t you dare make me go up there, young man. I will personally go out there and bring your ass home.” She wiped at a tear before it could start rolling down her cheek. “So you better come home.” She mustered a confident grin just for him. “Go get him back.”

Peter let out a shuddery breath. “Are you seriously letting me go, Aunt May?”

“Like I said, you snuck onto a spaceship once, and I had no idea where you were,” she said, her grin turning into a sad smile. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. “I’m sure you’d somehow find a way to get up there anyway. You’ve never been one to give up.” She looked over at him. “I trust that you’ll come back. So prove me right, Spiderman.”

“Oh my God, thank you, I love you, thank you, thank you, Mom! Thank you!” he exclaimed, reaching out and pulling her into a tight hug. “I promise I’m going to make you proud, I’m going to come right back home and bring Mr. Stark with me!”

He didn’t notice the startled look on her face at his slip up, the way she gripped him tighter as she held him. She was just about to open her mouth to say something when a voice from the back seat interrupted.

“I’m so glad she decided to let you go. I wasn’t sure you would be able to convince her.”

They both jumped, turning towards the stranger. “Excuse me, who -” Peter began.

“Shuri - T’Challa’s sister,” she quickly answered. “Here, use these, they’ll muffle your footsteps,” she said, pushing what looked like shoe soles into his hands. “We have to go now though, I already fixed up my brother’s ship, they could leave any second.”

Peter was nodding, barely keeping up, when FRIDAY added, “The finished Mark II of the Iron Spider is on the second floor, third door to the right. It’s where all of Boss’ projects were kept.” The AI seemed to pause for the briefest of seconds before adding, “Bring him home.”

“Now, go,” May told him, giving him one last kiss on the cheek, “before I change my mind. I love you, be safe, and come home.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Parker,” Shuri assured her as she hopped out of the car. “I’ll watch his back.”

“I love you, too, Aunt May,” Peter said, his voice still wobbly. He got out of the car quickly, running for the compound, shooting one last look over his shoulder at his aunt as Shuri followed right behind him.

**...**   


Sneaking into the third door to the right on the second floor hadn’t been hard. They just had to quietly get into the room without Scott noticing, but he’d seemed distracted enough as he held a hushed conversation on his phone and Shuri’s “sneakers” made them soundless. FRIDAY quickly directed them to the right set of cabinets, where Peter pulled out the small container where he knew the suit would be in. He spotted a familiar glowing centerpiece of a chestplate, no bigger than his hand, sitting in the corner where the container of his suit had been. He picked it up without hesitation, shoving it in his pocket. Peter knew it would come in handy as soon as he saw him again.

* * *

 

Not knowing what else to do, Tony, Natasha, and Gamora decided to stay put. They had tried walking towards the mountain to no avail, and, if Peter and Stephen came up with a plan to get them out, it was best that they rested and recharged to be ready for whatever wrench got thrown into the mix.

They weren’t wasting their time though. They’d already run through 14 different plans and ideas, and even tried a few out, each one more complex than the other on how to bust out of the stone.

“So getting through the water is a no go,” Natasha said, staring up at the orange sky from where she was laying on the ground.

“Nope,” Tony agreed. He was laying down beside her, and he felt a rush of deja vu, thinking back on how they had brainstormed just like this when they were first coming up with the plan to go get the stones from the past in Scott’s Time Heist.

Gamora was sitting off to the side, staring out at the mountain. She was humming a song under her breath, deep in thought as Tony and Natasha continued bouncing ideas off each other.

After a while, they quieted down, turning to look at Gamora.

“Are you singing?” Natasha asked.

She turned, shaking her head. “Just humming. I don’t know the words well enough. Peter knew this song though.”

“But,” Tony began, sitting up. “I can hear the music - I hear  _ singing _ .”

The lyrics were faint, the beat muffled, but sure enough, it was there.

“ _ If you need me call me no matter where you are _

“ _ No matter how far don't worry baby _ -”

“Wait,” Gamora breathed, slowly standing up.

_ “Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry _

_ “You don't have to worry-” _

She could feel tears welling in her eyes, a bright smile spreading across her face as she brought a hand up to cover it, to rub at her face to keep from crying.

_ “ _ _ 'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough _

_ “Ain't no valley low enough-” _

“That’s Peter!” Gamora laughed, relieved and longing and so, so excited. “It’s them - it’s my family!”

_ “Ain't no river wide enough-” _

Gamora turned to Tony and Natasha, the grin on her face soft but confident. “The Guardians are coming, too.”

_ “To keep me from getting to you babe.” _

* * *

 

“Ready to go?” Quill asked an hour later, shouting from inside the Milano, before resuming his singing. “ _ My love is alive _

_ “Way down in my heart-” _ Just going all in with the song helped calm him down, got him roaring to go. “ _ Although we are miles apart _

_ “If you ever need a helping hand-” _

Rocket walked past him, rolling his eyes but glad to see Quill acting more like himself than he had since they’d all come back.

_ “I'll be there on the double- _

_ “Just as fast as I can, _ ” Peter’s singing got fainter as Rocket stepped outside, heading straight for the King and Captain America.

Steve, Rocket, and T’Challa were sharing last minute information, setting up a direct line of communication from the Milano and T’Challa’s ship. “All you have to do is hit this button, and boom, you’re in,” Rocket told him, handing T’Challa the handheld device.

“I am Groot,” Groot said from the ship’s hull.

“Of course it’s not a bomb!” Rocket shouted back. 

He seemed unconvinced from where he stood. “I am Groot.”

“I know I said ‘boom’ but that’s - it was just an expression! Not everything I make is a bomb!” Rocket answered defensively. “We want these guys alive to get Gamora back, I’m not an idiot.”

Groot shrugged, stepping back inside, the mumbled “I am Groot” still loud enough for them to hear.

“That little punk,” Rocket huffed, the rest of his sentence drowned out as the loud sounds of a quinjet roared above them.

Everyone immediately looked up, going into defensive positions, having completely forgotten that there was one last ship on the way.  They were so focused on the ship that they missed the rocket heading straight for them, until it landed about a dozen feet from the Milano.

The man straightened as the dust settled, and there stood War Machine. The face plate pulled back. “I’m glad Pepper thought to call me this morning, you had all really forgotten to tell me all about this,” he began, an annoyed look on his face. “First you don’t even tell me that Cap’s back, and now you’re going off on a rescue mission to get my best friend back and I don’t even get an invite,” he finished, crossing his arms.

Sam raised an eyebrow from where he was moving some last few things onto the ship. “I tried calling you man, you never answered. I’m really glad someone finally got in touch with you.”

Before Rhodey had a chance to answer, the quinjet touched down, opening up the second it was on the ground. Three people stepped out, familiar glowing swirls of red energy coming off of one while the one directly beside them walked with a confident, efficient air. The third individual stepped off last, hands on their hips, clearly irritated.

“You motherfuckers really thought you could leave without me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He snuck on once, my bby can do it again - and he has Shuri now, of course he can do it again. And as for the late comers, party don't start til War Machine's in in the mix! And hey, Sam tried guys, he tried to contact them, but this all went down pretty fast so they just barely caught the ride to the stars
> 
> And as for the song Gamora heard and that Peter was singing, that was Ain't No Mountain High Enough, a fucking classic that still slaps to this day
> 
> ANyway, thank you soooooo much for reading it literally means a ton! Comments and kudos make my swoon and motivate the fuck out of me, so if you can, drop some love! Love you guys! See you guys next time!


	15. To the Lonely Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're on their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today has been a really, really long day, but getting this done really helped me relax and unwind and get my thoughts in order
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this!

Setting off, they immediately went through the nearest jump point and shot through the stars. It’d be about a week’s journey, so they had a week to make sure their weapons were ready and a plan was put in place.

The Royal Talon Fighter and the Milano had an almost constant stream of communication, as all of the Guardians, Thor, Valkyrie, Bruce, Scott, and Hope travelled in the Milano and everyone else rode in T’Challa’s ship. It was a cramped fit for everyone, but they were all managing as best as possible, sharing rooms on the Milano while less private accomodations were set up in the fighter, small cots set up in quieter corners for them to take turns sleeping.

They’d been travelling now for a few hours when Bruce finally approached Thor. He crossed his arms expectantly.

“Care to explain?” he asked.

Thor rubbing his arm a little nervously. “Well, I mean - you, you remember my brother.”

Bruce’s firm stance melted at that, his arms dropping as he put a gentle hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Are you seeing him too? Are you okay?”

It warmed Thor to see his friend worry about him, to see how much he cared. He gave Bruce an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, much better than I’ve ever been, actually,” he said with complete sincerity in his voice. “But - so, Loki, I, I have seen him and -”

There was an exasperated sigh from behind the pair as Valkyrie came over to them, rolling her eyes once more. “Never been the best with words, have you brother?” she quipped, her form shimmering. “Doctor Banner knows me -” she continued, her voice changing halfway through her sentence as she got taller, her silver armor turning black with green accents. “- so I think it’s safe that I show myself around him.”

“Loki?” Bruce asked, eyes widening. “Holy shit, Loki! But I thought - I saw - Thanos  _ killed _ you!”

“Doesn’t seem to be stopping most of us, does it?’ Loki shrugged nonchalantly. He was trying to seem calm and cool, but, like Loki himself had said, Bruce had gotten to know him as they’d flown towards Earth with the Asgardians all those years ago - and he could see that Loki was nervous.

“Jesus,” Bruce breathed, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. Loki stood completely still, not knowing how to react. Bruce let go, patting him on the arm. “Where the hell have you been?”

He grimaced. “Just because I escaped Thanos doesn’t mean I escaped his snap,” Loki said quietly. “I’ve been back for only a few months.”

“Oh shit, well, I guess,” Bruce ran a hand through his hair, pushing his glasses back in place. “That explains why you never came back.” He laughed, shaking his head. “With everything going on, I have no idea how to react anymore to people coming back from the dead. But it’s damn good to have you here.”

“Thank you,” Loki answered, unexpectedly genuine in his response. “Couldn’t really stay away from trouble.”

“The Revengers, back in business,” Bruce grinned.

“Not all of us, Valkyrie’s still on Earth, guarding New Asgard,” Thor reminded him.

Bruce gave him a knowing look. “I knew you wouldn’t leave your people without any sort of defense.”

Thor smiled, feeling relieved, like everything was starting to fall together. “What kind of a king - what kind of an Avenger - seeking redemption and a second chance, would I be if did that?”

* * *

 

Although everyone’s reactions to Loki’s return were varied, they all settled on relief and happiness for Thor. They’d heard enough from Thor, Bruce, and Valkyrie as they had all vouched for him, vouched for how he had essentially died a hero’s death at the hands of Thanos after having saved his people from Hela. He’d even explained that his attack on New York had been heavily influenced by Thanos, the implication of mind control clear in his tone. It hadn’t been enough to give him a clean slate, but they had all agreed that they were glad - at varying levels - to have him back.

Fury rubbed at his temples from where he sat in the Talon Fighter, watching Loki and Thor retreat to their rooms after their collective meeting announcing Loki being alive and well had ended.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that he’s alive,” he admitted. “Fucker’s died now what, three times?”

“Something like that,” Maria said. She turned to Clint. “How much do you trust him?”

“Loki?” his expression darkened, his hand going to his chest involuntarily. “I don’t.” He grimaced as if he were swallowing something unpleasant. “But I trust Thor, and I trust Bruce.” His shoulders slumped as he sighed. “And I know what it’s like to not be in control. If he’s telling the truth - I can’t - we  _ shouldn’t _ hold it against him the way we’ve been.”

Silence settled over the group for a few seconds before Bucky got up from where he’d been sitting, going straight to the lower levels.

Steve watched him go, letting him get ahead before he got up as well. “I should go...talk to him,” he said as he excused himself.

Everyone else started filing out and heading to do their own business, leaving Fury, Maria, and Okoye at the command center. Fury stood, turning to Okoye. “General, could you do me a favor and fill us in? I think we’re still a little behind and I don’t want any more surprises on this trip.”

* * *

 

Even though Steve had been only a second or two behind Bucky, as soon as he left the command center Bucky was nowhere in sight. Steve wasn’t surprised. When Bucky didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be, but that didn’t stop Steve when he first found out Bucky was still alive and it sure wasn’t going to stop him now.

Despite his stubbornness, it still took Steve almost an hour to find Bucky. He was in a small storage room towards the back of the ship, in a small nook to the left of the main engine. Bucky was sitting on a crate, looking out the tiny window there.

“Took me ages to find you, Buck,” Steve said as he stepped into the room, letting the door slide shut behind him. He sat down on another crate, waiting for Bucky to acknowledge him. When he didn’t, Steve continued, “I think you were going easy on me though. You probably could have found a way to hide in the walls if you wanted to.”

That made Bucky’s lips twitch slightly before they settled into a frown. He still wasn’t looking at Steve as he said, “Do you think maybe you guys should have left me behind?”

“What? Left you behind?” Steve asked. “Like, on Earth?”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his hands. “On Earth, in cryo - just, left me behind.”

“No, Bucky - why would you think that?” Steve moved over from where he was sitting, coming to kneel in front of Bucky so that he could meet his gaze.

“I’m not -” he started, voice growing small. “I don’t trust myself.”

“But they took care of you, in Wakanda, they took care to take out the stuff that was in your head,” Steve assured him, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

He bit his lip, his eyes darting to Steve’s hand before dropping to the ground again. “What if he takes over again?” He covered his metal hand with his other one, as if keeping it out of sight would make that part of him disappear. “What if I go Winter Soldier?”

“You won’t,” Steve said quickly. Seeing that Bucky still didn’t seem convinced, he put his hands over Bucky’s, clasping them between his own. He could feel the warmth of his skin and the coolness of the metal against his palms. “And if you do, I’ll bring you back, just like I did in the helicarrier. I won’t leave you behind.”

Bucky met Steve’s gaze, his expression looking so pained and hesitant Steve felt hairline fractures spider web across his heart.

“It happened once before,” Bucky whispered, his lips barely moving, the sentence almost inaudible.

Steve felt his heart shatter, the breath leaving his lungs like a blow to the chest. But suddenly his arms were full of Bucky as he pulled Steve into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“God, Steve, I don’t want to lose myself again,” he breathed, his voice trembling.

“You won’t,” Steve repeated, finding it hard to speak around the sudden lump in his throat. But it had to have been his imagination. Bucky hadn’t pressed what he thought he’d heard, so it couldn’t be possible that he’d said it.  “I’m here and I’ll make sure you stay here,” Steve finished with his lips against Bucky’s shoulder, “with me.”

They pulled away from each other, but Steve didn’t let go of Bucky fully. Bucky smiled at that, threading his fingers with Steve’s as he moved over to make room on the crate so Steve could sit by him.

“I don’t know, Buck, we might break it,” Steve smiled.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You forget that I lived in Wakanda for over a year before everything went down.” He patted the box as he tugged Steve up beside him. “They sew Vibranium fibers into their clothes, I’m sure these crates are reinforced too. They can hold two super soldiers.”

**...**

A few hours passed with the both of them just talking and passing the time in the storage room, enough time for Steve to start nodding off, head drooping against Bucky’s shoulder before he snapped up again.

“Bedtime, Stevie,” Bucky observed, knocking his shoulder lightly against Steve’s.

“Mmmaybe,” Steve slowly agreed.

“C’mon,” Bucky said, standing up and pulling Steve up with him. “King T’Challa set some stuff up a little ways off from the center console.”

They had just made it to the door when they heard a loud thud and cursing coming from within the wall.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, all hints of sleep completely gone. They said nothing as they quietly tiptoed around the room, coming to the source of the noise. Steve motioned towards a panel against the wall, and Bucky noticed that one of the bolts was only partially screwed in. Bucky frowned, Steve mirroring the expression - how the hell had something like that slipped both of them?

Bucky slowly reached for the panel, glancing over at Steve. When he saw him nod, Bucky quickly dug his fingers into the metal - thank Wakanda for the vibranium arm - and tore the panel off its hinges.

“Shuri?” Bucky asked as soon as he saw T’Challa’s little sister sitting in the cramped space.

“Hey, Bucky,” she sighed, defeat in her tone at having been found out.

“Hi, Mr. Barnes, sir,” another voice squeaked out.

Steve turned his attention away from Shuri and saw Peter sitting across from her, just as smushed in the wall.

“Dammit, Queens.”

* * *

 

Hope found Scott sitting on his own, watching the stars while keeping track of King T’Challa’s ship as it flew beside them.

“I’m surprised you and Rocket aren’t closer friends. He’s got a lot of toys here you could get your hands on,” she said, coming to sit beside him.

Scott glanced over at her, putting a hand on her knee and giving it a slight shake. “Yeah, ha-ha, of course the burglar would become best friends with the raccoon - nature’s best thief.” He frowned. “I’m not sure how Rocket feels about me though - he called me a puppy.”

“He did what?” Hope laughed. Scott told her all about first meeting Rocket, how insanely intimidating the bipedal mammal was but how awed he was that Rocket was so insanely smart. Hope listened, utterly engaged in the conversation, keeping the reason why she came to find Scott at the back of her head.

As soon as there was a lull in the conversation, Hope finally asked, “How did Cassie take it?”

“She, uh,” Scott began, rubbing at the back of his neck. He knew this was coming, but still didn’t know how to put it. “Well, you know how Cassie is.”

“So, it went well?” Hope assumed.

“Yeah,” Scott said with a small smile. “It went well.” He scrunched his nose, blinking rapidly, obviously trying to keep from crying.

“We’re going back to them, Scott,” Hope assured him, reading his mind.

“I-I know,” Scott nodded, turning and giving Hope an even brighter smile. “I’m still nervous though - like I don’t know, I’m thinking about Stark, and his daughter, and just -” he paused, covering his face with his hands and taking a ragged breath as he composed himself. “It makes me think of Cassie, those five years I missed, and all the years before that when I was in prison.”

Hope wrapped an arm around Scott’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “You know, I lost my mother for almost my whole life,” she said, not looking at him. “And sometimes she asks me if I missed her, during all that time. And I did.” Hope turned to him again. “But now that I have her back, I don’t dwell on how she was gone. That would just hurt me all over again, and it would make me miss out on the time I do have with her now.” She gave him a small smile. “I appreciate every single second I have with her. I can see that in Cassie. And I’m sure that Tony Stark’s daughter will feel that way, too.”

Scott leaned his head against hers, sighing shakily. “It seems like all we do is bring families together,” he joked.

“Hey, thankfully the whole world doesn’t need saving every day,” Hope replied. “And what better thing to do with that free time than save someone else’s world.”

* * *

 

After T’Challa showed him to a quiet spot on the ship where he could meditate, Stephen settled down to do just that. Having successfully meditated earlier and brought Peter back gave him the confidence to do it again, and after a few eternal minutes of silence, Stephen felt the shift all around him, the metallic walls of the ship melting and puddling on the ground, stretching as far as his eyes could see in a still ocean of water.

“Strange,” a surprised voice said from behind him.

He turned around, seeing Gamora getting to her feet, with Tony and Natasha following suit from where they had been laying on the ground.

“We’re on our way,” Stephen told them, getting to the point. “The Avengers, the Guardians, we’re on our way.”

Gamora smiled, turning to Natasha and Tony. “Told you guys.”

“We never said we didn’t believe you,” Natasha answered, going over to them. “It's just nice to hear that they’re working together for this.”

“How’s Peter?” Tony asked without preamble.

“Fine, he woke up and he’s back home in Queens with his aunt,” Stephen assured him. “He was extremely upset when we sent him away.”

Tony nodded, sighing sadly. “That...sounds like Peter.” He looked away, crossing his arms. “But he’s safe, and that’s what matters, and it won’t be long now until we’re all home.”

“We should be there within a week,” Stephen informed them. He looked around, wringing his hands in thought. “I don’t know how much time will have passed by then here but -”

Natasha waved his worry aside. “We’re dead, Strange. We know this won’t be a walk in the park and we aren’t expecting one. We’ll wait what we have to.”

Stephen dropped his gaze, the ache in his chest at being reminded that they were dead present and pained like always. “We’ll be there - soon.” He felt his vision shift, hearing frustrated voices coming from elsewhere in the ship.

Tony frowned as Stephen solidified again, the muffled voices having come through, but being unintelligible. “What was that?”

“Probably just some disagreement about how best to approach this,” Stephen shrugged. He looked exhausted. “You both know how stubborn Captain Rogers can be, and the three of us know how impractical Peter Quill can be,” he said, first referring to Tony and Natasha then to Gamora, Tony, and himself. “Rogers must have pitched a plan and Quill probably rejected it.”

“That sounds like them,” Tony grimaced. “Can’t say I envy you having to mediate all that.”

“Don’t remind me,” Stephen mumbled, letting himself start to fade back to his body. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, fill you all in on what we’re planning. But we’ll be there soon, just wa-”

And he was back in his body, sitting on the cot that had been set up in the room. The shouting got louder, and he could finally distinctly make out the voices. That was definitely King T’Challa, and it sounded like Steve, too, so it seemed he wasn’t wrong there. But then he recognized the third, the insistent confidence and unshakeable stubborness that gave both Tony and Steve a run for their money.

“Of fuck,” Stephen sighed.

* * *

 

“You should be home, with our mother, with our people,” T’Challa scolded, staring down his sister.

Shuri glared up at him. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even be out in space! I had to secretly recalibrate your ‘adjustments’,” she made air quotes, “to make sure you’d withstand being out of Earth’s atmosphere.”

“Peter, what were you thinking, exactly?” Steve asked with exaggerated patience, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to keep calm.

Before Peter could answer, Stephen stepped into the control center. “Yes, Peter, please tell us” he began, tone cold fury, “what exactly were you thinking?

Just like he knew he would, Peter didn’t back down. “I’m here to help,” he said, fists balled at his sides. “You all didn’t think I could do it, but Tony made me an Avenger! I deserve to be here, to help, just as much as the rest of you.”

“I just got done telling Tony that you were safe in New York,” Stephen told him, shaking his head. “He was worried sick about you and I just finished reassuring him that you were fine, safe and sound.”

Peter faltered at hearing that Stephen had just spoken to Tony, but he rallied despite the misstep. “I’m still safe and sound, aren’t I?”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Shuri added, coming to stand beside Peter.

It looked like T’Challa was going to pop an aneurysm. “Take care of yourselves? Shuri, you -”

“I what, brother?” she wheeled back on him. “I what? I should stay home, waiting to hear that you’ve died, again? Waiting and waiting and waiting for someone who might never come home? Waiting like I did for Baba after you both went to sign the Accords?” She was breathing heavily, but her gaze were steely, her stance firm. “I’m here to help, to have your back. I’m here so I don’t lose you again.”

All the fight went out of T’Challa, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head, pulling Shuri into a tight hug. “Bast above, Mother’s going to kill me.”

“Kill us,” she corrected, hugging him back. “I love you, and I’m not letting you go again.”

He pulled back, smiling widely. “You hardly ever say that anymore.”

“Don’t push it,” Shuri warned him, her smile undercutting the threat.

“I love you, too,” T’Challa said.

“So does that mean we can stay?” Peter quietly asked.

“We’re not done with you -” Stephen began, just as Peter ground out, “Well, we do have a pending ‘not now’ conversation -” but both stopped as T’Challa slowly nodded.

Then the king shrugged. “We can’t send them back, and going back would just waste time.”

Shuri and Peter looked at T’Challa expectantly, waiting for him to say it.

“You can stay,” T’Challa relented.

“Yes!” they both exclaimed, high-fiving.

“But,” T’Challa continued. “You will stay with either Okoye or me the entire time.”

Nodding, Shuri said, “I can agree to that.”

Stephen crossed his arms. “And you will stay with me the entire time,” he told Peter.

“Or me,” Steve added. “Always with us, never alone.”

Peter looked like he wanted to argue but instead just settled down and accepted the partial victory. “I accept the terms and conditions.”

“I’m glad to see the whole family’s coming together,” Fury commented from where he’d been sitting watching everything unfold. He turned and looked at Peter, snorting out a humorless laugh. “Friendly, neighborhood Spiderman. Yeah, right.”

* * *

 

For the first time since he woke up, Tony felt calm. His friends were on their way. They were going to come get them, take them all home.

He looked up at the orange sky, the unchanging expanse of the sunset that never led to night. He thought of everyone, traveling through space to get to them. He pictured the stars, their journey through the night. He smiled.

“I’m going home,” he whispered, whispered to Pepper, to Morgan, to Peter, to Harley. “I’m going home soon,” he whispered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve are gonna be the death of me, I fucking swear man smfh
> 
> one more chapter after this, then - then its the dawn of part II !


	16. Vormir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soul Heist is swinging into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we go guys! This is the last chapter to part I ! This chapter's a little shorter than usual but it's pretty quick and sets up everything for part II ! Thank you all so, so much for sticking around throughout all of this and I really hope to see you all in part II !
> 
> I hope you like it!

The rest of the week went by rather uneventfully. Stephen kept Tony, Natasha, and Gamora informed, delivering news and messages back and forth between them and the Soul Heist team. Tony, as expected, almost had a nervous breakdown when he found out Peter was with them, and it took Natasha, Gamora, and Stephen himself to help reassure and calm him down.

“You keep him safe, Stephen,” he’d almost begged. Stephen had quickly swore he would. He wouldn’t let Tony down again.

There were plans tossed around that got scrapped just as fast as they’d been created. No one knew what to expect, aside from the little that Clint had told them. That hadn’t been at all reassuring.

They rested and regrouped and rethought everything, but in the end, they knew that they would just have to wing it.

Then came the moment of truth.

“Vormir,” Clint whispered as they crested the last jump, coming right in front of the lonely planet. “We’re here.”

* * *

 

Landing had been hesitant and careful, but within the hour they were on the planet’s surface. They silently marched off, weapons at the ready, super suits donned, eyes peeled, and tension palpable in the air.

The sky was dark purple, the color of the sky right before the sunrise, right at the cusp between the dark of night and daybreak.

Clint stepped away from the group, looking one way and another, seeing the planet looking completely untouched, just the way it’d been when he’d arrived with Natasha.

“They - they should be here, but,” Clint began, voice edging on panicked. “It doesn’t look like how it is in our dreams, I don’t -”

* * *

 

Stephen had told them that they were three jumps away last time he’d been able to contact them. That felt like it’d been ages ago, but they all knew it couldn’t have been more than a day since he’d last come through. The boredom and nervous energy was getting the better of them, and just as Tony was going to suggest playing another rousing game of never have I ever, lightning flashed.

They scrambled to their feet, catching sight of a purple sky and two ships docked a dozen yards away from them. Tony recognized everyone in the crowd, and his heart squeezed in his chest.

“Clint?” Natasha whispered from beside him before taking off in a run, heading straight for the lone figure up ahead. “Clint!”

“Nat!” he shouted, running to meet her, arms outstretched to pull her in a hug.

Then there was another flash, and they were alone again, the orange sky back as if it’d never left.

“No, no -” Natasha cried, arms meeting nothing but air in front of her. She whirled around. “You all saw that, right? They were -”

“They were right there,” Gamora breathed, frozen right on the spot, her disbelief keeping her from moving. She turned to Tony, tears in her eyes. “They were right there.”

Tony opened his mouth, not sure what he was even going to say since he was just as stunned and torn at having seen everyone, when a voice from behind them chimed in.

“That, they were. All nice and ready to take you all home.”

* * *

 

“Fuck, no - no, they were there! Natasha was there!” Clint screamed as he ran straight through were she would have been, just as everyone ran to him. They’d all seen them, the three solitary figures backlit by an orange light, gone just as quickly as they’d appeared.

“I don’t understand -” Steve began, at a loss, when a voice he recognized called out.

“Welcome back, Clint, son of Edith.”

* * *

 

“Who are you?” Gamora demanded, turning towards the voice and coming face to face with a bright light, almost too painful to look at.

“I am,” the being said, voice low, ancient, layered in hundreds of voices, coming from all around them. “The Soul.”

“You’re not the keeper of the stone,” Natasha answered. “I’ve met him, and it's not you.”

The light turned to Natasha. “Not the keeper. The Soul.”

“The Soul,” Tony repeated. “Like, the Soul Stone?”

“Correct, Anthony Stark,” it replied. “And I am what stands between you and them.”

* * *

 

“T’Challa, son of Ramonda,” he continued, floating towards them across the water. “Hope, daughter of Hank. Thor, son of Frigga. Steve, son -” he paused, eyes flashing as recognition dawned on his red features. “OF A BITCH!”

He lunged at Steve, and Steve immediately raised his shield to defend himself when suddenly Red Skull froze, as if stopped by an invisible force. He was shaking in his fury, but composed himself all the same.

“Steve,” he spat out as he finished, “Son of Sarah.” He drifted past, coming to a stop before all of them. “You’re all here for the Stone Souls.” It wasn’t a question.

“What are you even doing here?” Steve demanded. “You should be dead.”

His head cocked to Steve. “I was banished here, to guard what I can never possess. Just as I guard the souls within.”

* * *

 

“So all we have to do is fight you?” Gamora growled, already moving into a fighting stance.

“Not at all,” the light answered. “You have to conquer yourselves before you are to be freed. And they must conquer themselves before they are to free you.”

“And if we can’t?” Natasha asked, already sensing the catch.

“You remain here,” he said matter-of-factly.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to do whatever it takes to keep us here, aren’t you?”

“Success or failure means nothing to me.” It drifted around them, circling them. “If you succeed, I am fed. If you fail, I am fed. I do not merely take souls - I feast on their potential. Lost or achieved makes no difference to me.”

“Then why not just let us go?” Gamora snapped.

The light swayed. “I am the only stone with pure sentience. I grow bored in my loneliness.” It glowed brighter, wisps of light starting to encase the three of them. “Prove yourselves, that your sacrifices were worthy, that you deserve to return.”

* * *

 

“So if we defeat you, we get them back?” Stephen asked, orange wisps of magic already forming at his wrists.

“Not me,” Red Skull responded. He looked at the mountain. “You must defeat the stone.” He turned slowly, scanning everyone in their group. “You are to split up, one group per soul. Prove your worth and earn their lives.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda scowled, stepping up next to Clint.

Red Skull glanced at the red energy dancing along her finger tips, his lip curling into the approximation of a smile. “You have ten minutes.”

* * *

 

“Three sacrifices,” the light continued, floating past them. Tony, Natasha, and Gamora couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. They were frozen in place.

“One, taken,” the light sighed, drifting past Gamora.

“One, fought for,” it added as it moved by Natasha.

“And one, given,” the light finished, stopping in front of Tony.

There was a flash of bright energy, a blinding light, even more blinding than the being. “Prove your worth,” they heard. “And your lives will be returned.”

Then, there was nothing but darkness as the stars above finally twinkled to life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANd that's the end of First Contact! I just had to include the popular "Steve Son of A BITCH" headcanon because c'mon that shit is soooooo accurate, but anyway, I promise imma be back as soon as possible! I've got a midterm tomorrow that I've gotta study for and then class for the rest of the week, but I promise Imma be back as soon as they let up again!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and for all the comments and kudos. To all my commenters, and my repeat commenters, you all made my day whenever I would read them and it just motivated me to write even more! Thank you so much!
> 
> I can't wait to see you all in part II :)

**Author's Note:**

> that shit hurted tbh, but i had to get it done, we'll see when i come back, but I had to write this after seeing Endgame like c'mon i couldn't not write something


End file.
